


The Darkness Within

by Annika_H



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark Merlin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Merlin, Loss of Control, Loss of Parent(s), Magic, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 35,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annika_H/pseuds/Annika_H
Summary: Upon discovering that his best friend has been lying to him for years, the anger inside of Arthur snaps. Rash decisions lead to an awful outcome, and Merlin flees to Ealdor with Gwaine in search of safety. A tragic mistake sends Merlin over the edge - and the unexplored side of his magic comes to full light. No one can stop him from getting revenge, now. Dark Merlin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A what-if situation of Merlin, 5x03. What if Uther had been able to tell Arthur about Merlin’s magic? How would Arthur react...And what could come from his decisions?
> 
> I am not affiliated with the BBC, and make no claim to Merlin or any of the original storyline or characters.

_**Merlin**  _

I watch with bated breath, stuck to the wall by the spears Uther threw at me, as Arthur holds up the horn that will send his father out of this world and back into that of the dead. 

“You’ve had your turn,” Arthur says, voice thick with emotion. “Now it’s mine.” He brings the horn to his lips, ready to blow.

“Merlin has magic!” Uther yells quickly. My heart drops. 

“Don’t try to trick me!” Arthur shouts at the ghost of his father.

“Ask him!” 

Arthur shakes his head disbelievingly and blows the horn. Uther gasps as his ghost grows and spreads out, thinning as it does. And then he’s gone, and it’s just Arthur and I in the armory.

“What was he on about?” I ask shakily after a long moment of silence.

“Is it true?” My blood runs cold at Arthur’s question. He stares at me expectantly. His feet planted on the ground in his familiar, strong stance.

“You don’t seriously believe him?”

“Is. It. True?” Arthur says very quietly, taking a slight step forward.

I want to make a run for it, but I’m trapped here unless I use magic to free myself; which would just prove Uther’s word. I stare at Arthur for a long moment, trying to think of the words to say – but they do not come. He stands there, every bit the King that he is. My silence answers his question, though. He realizes this, and glances away, muttering a series of choice words under his breath.

When Arthur looks back to me, his jaw is set. I know in that moment that this will not go well. Arthur was not ready to learn about my magic - or maybe this is how it was supposed to go all along. Perhaps I wasn’t supposed to make it through to see Albion. Either way, I feel my whole world crashing down around me. 

“What...What are you going to do?” I ask, surprised at the strength still held in it. 

The King walks forward purposefully, not looking me in the eyes. He finally looks up when he reaches me, but I almost wish he hadn’t. There is no warmth in his gaze; only anger and betrayal.

“Explain to me,” He begins in a very tight tone. “Why you would ever practice magic when you know that it is outlawed? Even the stupidest sorcerers out there would know better than to -”

“-Arthur, please listen to me -” I begin, cutting him off. 

“ _I am talking_!” Arthur shouts, slamming the palms of his hands against my shoulders, pushing me further into the wood behind me. I flinch at his aggressiveness, eyes wide as I stare at him in surprise. Arthur stands that way, holding me still, with my face inches above his. The worst thing is the murderous glare he is giving me. “All these years I thought I could trust you! I called you _friend_ , Merlin! You were my _best_ friend for years and this whole time you’ve been plotting against me! What have you been doing with all of Camelot’s information, hmm? Selling it to Morgana? To someone else? Storing it in that evil head of yours so you would know the perfect time to attack?” 

“N-no!” I protest, shaking my head quickly. “I promise, Arthur, that everything I have done was to _protect_ you and Camelot! I have saved your life countless times - saved _everyone’s_ lives! Like Gaius, Uther, the Knights, and even _Gwen_! You have no idea how hard I’ve worked to keep everyone safe!”

“Liar!” Arthur cries, drawing away from me, pointing an accusatory finger. “Magic is evil and that’s all it is! And after all it’s done to me - done to my _family_ \- you want to convince me that you’ve been using it for _good_? You betrayed me, Merlin. You’ve betrayed all of _Camelot_!”

“Arthur, I _know_ how magic has harmed you over the years, but that was because of all the people who use it for evil – I’m not like that, I never have been. Besides, I was born this way - I didn’t have a choice in the matter!”

“Guards!”

“No - Please, it’s my destiny to protect you and all of Camelot -”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Arthur snarls at me. The words that we used to toss around so carelessly seem to bite into me. “You lost all right to speak to me when you became a traitor.”

The guards run in at that moment, with Gwaine behind them. They all seem shocked at the sight before them, but Gwaine most of all.

“What is it, Princess?” The Knight asks confusedly. “I thought there might be an intruder. Why’s Merlin pinned? Let him down!”

“Take him to the cells and watch him closely. He is to be executed for treason in the morning.” Arthur’s words are too much; a punch in the stomach, which literally leaves me gasping for breath.

The guards start forward in shock, but they follow their King’s orders. Or they would have, if Gwaine had not shoved them back. He storms over to Arthur, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him roughly.

“ _What in the world are you talking about_?” He shouts. “Merlin is a friend to us all and a bloody better manservant than you give him credit for! He has done _nothing_ to deserve to be executed!”

Arthur shoves Gwaine away with such fierceness that the Knight hits the wall behind him. “He,” the King states, pointing to me, “is a _sorcerer_ and a _traitor_ to us all! He has been practicing magic, waiting for the perfect moment to strike!”

Gwaine looks between Arthur and I several times before responding, shaking his head. “Even if that is true, you of all people should know that he would never do anything to hurt any of us! He is loyal and just and deserves to live - no matter what kind of things he might have done!”

“Guards, take the _sorcerer_ to a cell like I ordered,” Arthur commands. None of the men move immediately. “ _Now!_ ” Gwaine starts forward once again, but Arthur’s authoritative hand holds him back. “And if you get in the way I swear you will be locked up for a week.” The Knight looks at him in shock, but seemingly forces himself to stand back.

The guards pull the spears from the wood and instantly shackle my hands behind my back before ushering me toward the door. 

“Arthur, you’ve been through far too much tonight already – I know that. You’re not thinking clearly. But _please_ , I know you don’t want this. Don’t make a mistake that you can’t undo!”

The guards hold me secure, but they have stopped moving, waiting with me for Arthur to respond. When he doesn’t, I plow on.

“I’m your friend. You’re my _king_. And I will never do anything to hurt you.” I stop there, unsure of anything else to say.

“Knock him out so he doesn’t try to escape. The execution will be at first light tomorrow.”

A lone tear trickles down my cheek, and I meet Gwaine’s pain stricken, angry gaze before there is a firm yet careful blow and darkness engulfs me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Garderobe: The name given to the Medieval toilets. 
> 
> And if that isn’t intriguing enough…here’s chapter two!

**_Gwaine_ **

I storm through the Great Hall of the Knight’s Manor and into the fifth room on the right, where mine, Percival’s, and Elyan’s cots are, along with a handful of other knights our rank. Lancelot used to sleep in the bed right under the third window…A knight named Christopher has his bed, now.

All but one of the twelve men startle awake when I slam the door open – Merek always was a heavy sleeper. Eleven well-sharpened swords are drawn and ready for a fight. And then sheathed again, accompanied by a series of irritated groans.

“Not again, Gwaine,” Bryce grumbles. “If you’re going to go to the tavern, at least sober up before giving us a heart attack!”

“Percival, Elyan, I need to talk to you two,” I demand instantly, not in the mood to defend myself against Bryce’s accusations. I have done that before, after all.

“Oh no, he’s not drunk…” Gavin groans. “He’s worse when he’s sober…”

“Gwaine, what’s wrong?” Elyan asks, getting to his feet and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Where’s Leon?” No one in the room has an answer, so I go back into the Great Hall and raise my voice to a shout. “Leon!”

“Is Gwaine drunk again, or is this an actual emergency?” Leon’s alert voice demands from behind the garderobe door.

I stalk over to it, slamming my fist insistently against the wood. “Leon, would you finish emptying yourself already and get out here? This is important!”

Percival and Elyan come out of our chambers, raising their eyebrows at my exclaim. A moment later the garderobe door opens to show a very irritated looking Leon. “I will choose to ignore that vulgar description. Now what’s the matter? Have all the tavern ladies turned you down?”

“Merlin is unconscious in a cell in the dungeons and Arthur says he’s to be executed at first light.”

My friends are taken aback by this. Leon is the first to speak.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes I am serious!” I shout, flinging my arms in the air to add to my point. “The Princess seems to think Merlin has magic, and has betrayed us all!”

“Merlin has magic?” Percival cuts in. “Arthur can’t seriously think that. Didn’t he believe Merlin when he denied it?”

“Merlin didn’t deny anything. Actually he…He basically confessed to it. He was talking about Arthur and destiny and how much he’s done to protect Camelot…”

“So it’s true? Merlin has magic?” Elyan speaks quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear.

“But…Magic is outlawed. Merlin _knows_ that!” Leon whispers. “This doesn’t make any sense…Magic can’t be trusted…I would never associate Merlin of all people with -“

“You can’t believe that Merlin is against us – we’re his friends; we _know_ him! I trust him! You’re just as bad as Arthur – you condemn him so easily even though he’s proven himself _ten times over_ –“

“I’m not condemning him, Gwaine,” Leon cuts me off again. “But it’s hard to wrap my mind around. 

“So what…Do we try to talk Arthur out of it?” Elyan asks.

“You didn’t see him. There’s no talking him out of – and besides, we don’t have time to try. The sun will rise in less than two hours.”

“So we break him out,” Percival says at last.

“Yes.” 

“That’s _treason_!” Leon hisses, looking around to make sure we are alone.

I take a step toward the senior knight. “Merlin is my best friend. And I’m going to rescue him. I suggest you don’t try to stop me.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Gwaine. I won’t stop you.” 

“Then come on, we need to go _now_!” Elyan says hurriedly. 

“But,” Leon adds softly. “I’m not going with you. I care about Merlin – I do – and I don’t want him to die. But I also have an oath to follow the orders of my King. Arthur and I have been through too much together for me to go against him like that. You three will be enough to free Merlin, anyway.”

“Very well,” I say, nodding to Leon. “I understand. I’m sure you’ll hear about it when the guards find out.”

 

**_Merlin_ **

I blink awake, and instantly my senses break me fully out of my slumber. I sit alone, leaned against the stone wall, cold in a cell under the kingdom I’ve called home for years. My arms are still pulled behind my back with my wrists shackled together. 

It’s pitch black outside, except for the faint glow of the moon high in the sky. The darkness unsettles me down here, but the thought of light returning terrifies me even more.

I could easily escape from these chains, this cell, knock out the guards, and walk out of here with my head high, knowing no one can touch me. But no, not just yet. In a few minutes. Soon, but not yet. I may be in a cell, but I’m still home.

“Alright, your shift is over, time to switch,” a new voice announces. I try to block them out. So the guard is changing. So what?

“But why would you stand guard? You are above our rank.”

“A guard of Camelot and a knight of Camelot should stand on even ground, shouldn’t they?”

A pause. “Well, yes, I suppose so. Alright, we’ll switch. But don’t talk to the prisoner. He hasn’t said anything yet, and neither should you.” 

“Oh, right. Of course not.”

“I mean it - he’s dangerous! Don’t ever let your guard down.”

“As we are going to be _standing guard_ , I don’t think that would be wise,” another voice states. I look up now, in time to see the other group of four guards being replaced by three knights.

“What are you doing?” I ask, voice almost a whisper from not having been used for a few hours.

“We’re here to get you out, mate,” Gwaine says; but only a small smile is etched onto his face. 

“But...”

“Merlin,” Elyan stops me. “I don’t know what Arthur was thinking...And...I don’t know if you really have magic -”

“I do,” I say simply. I want my friends to know the truth; especially because they are being kind to me at the moment - that helps. “I was born with magic.”

Elyan blows a whistling sigh from his lips, just nodding his head. “Alright. Well. I know you, Merlin. And I know that you don’t deserve to be killed because of who you are. You have always been loyal to Camelot and all of us.”

“Thank you – _really_. But I don’t want you to get in trouble for this…I can free myself, after all.” To prove my point, I whisper a spell. “Wágþeorl.” The chains break and fall off of my wrists.

“Some things are worth it, mate,” Gwaine says gently.

“Are you sure you want to help me? If Arthur finds out…”

“I don’t care,” Gwaine states vehemently, going over to the ring of keys hanging on the wall and quickly unlocking my cell. “I know you, Merlin. You were my first friend when I came here - my first friend for a _long_ time before that, actually. I know you would never hurt anyone. And I’m going to stand by that belief.”

I hesitantly stand, going to my friend. I only pause a second before I throw my arms around him, and a couple of tears roll down my cheek. Gwaine hugs me back, ever the present friend he’s always been. “Thank you,” I say quietly, taking a deep breath. The Knight slaps me on the back and draws away, taking my arm and guiding me out of the cell. I look to Elyan and Percival, and exchange hugs with them as well. “I need to go, now, I suppose,” I mutter, looking at my shoes. “Thank you for getting me out...I hope you aren’t punished for it. Just...Just try to lead Arthur on the right path, alright? He’s thick headed and needs guidance - whether he asks for it or not.”

“I’m coming with you, mate,” Gwaine responds with a sad smile.

“What?” I look up, shaking my head. “No, you can’t - _none_ of you can! Everyone here needs _all_ of the knights to protect the kingdom!”

“Percival and I are staying,” Elyan says softly. “I have to be here for Gwen...”

“And I pledged that I would protect Camelot,” Percival adds.

“ _Exactly_! Gwaine, you swore you would stay here and help and protect the kingdom! You can’t just leave that, not for one man.”

“I swore that I would protect the people of Camelot - no matter what. And last time I checked, you were a citizen of the kingdom. Therefore, it is my duty to keep you safe,” the Knight replies.

“I don’t need protection, though,” I protest. “I have _magic_! And actually, I happen to be the most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived - so, I think I’ll be alright on my own.”

My friends stare at me for a moment in shock. Gwaine breaks the silence. “Well, no need to go and flaunt _that_ title!” He grins. “But really, Merlin. You’re not as strong alone, and you know that. What if you get into a situation where you can’t use your magic for whatever reason? Your arms are twigs, and could be broken just as easily. Sure, you’re alright with a sword - but if you’re outnumbered? No way. Look, I know you think I should stay, and perhaps you’re right, but I don’t care. I’m going with you.”

I give an exasperated sigh, before nodding my head. “Okay, fine. Alright. You can come.”

“Where are we going?”

I look to Elyan and Percival, to make sure that I can trust them. They both nod.

“First I need to see my mother. She deserves to know what happened.”


	3. Chapter 3

**_Arthur_ **

I stand in stoic silence before the fire burning in the hearth. This is how I’ve been for the past hour at least. Just standing. And I’m just trying not to think, but being plagued by thoughts anyway.

The door to my chambers creaks open without a knock, and I turn to reprimand my idiotic manservant, ready to scold him for entering without permission.

I stop myself, though, realizing that it is not Merlin. No, of course not, because I threw him in the dungeons to stay - alone and afraid - until he is to be executed tomorrow morning.

Gwen strolls into the room - and of course she didn’t knock; these are her chambers as well. She hugs me from behind, wrapping her arms around my waist and giving my cheek a quick kiss. My posture softens a little at her affectionate touch, but not nearly enough. Not even Gwen can ease my mind right now. In fact, I’m positive she won’t even try once she finds out about Merlin and my decision.

But it was the right decision, wasn’t it? Yes, yes of course. Magic is outlawed. Magic is evil. Therefore Merlin must be evil.

The words even sound ridiculous in my head.

“Arthur, what’s wrong? You have something on your mind, I can tell,” Gwen asks worriedly, coming in front of me to get a better look at my face. “It’s not Morgana again, is it?”

“No,” I mumble, rubbing my hands against my face, trying to prepare myself for the coming conversation. “No...Worse...”

My wife’s features harden, her brow furrowed in concern. “Worse than Morgana? What have I missed? I was only visiting Martha in the town for a couple of hours.”

“Merlin...” I clear my throat. “Merlin has magic.”

“What? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“He has magic. He’s a sorcerer. He admitted it himself.”

Gwen pauses a long moment before responding. She studies me carefully, checking for the truth in my eyes. “Well,” she says at last. “I suppose that explains his knack for always finding trouble...And the way he always makes it out relatively intact...”

“You don’t sound very surprised,” I counter quickly, more judgmental than I had meant.

“I mean...It sort of makes sense...In a way. And if I were to trust anyone with magic, it would be Merlin...” 

“You can’t be serious!” I don’t mean to yell at her - goodness knows she doesn’t deserve it - but all the pent up anger inside of me billows out. “He’s a _traitor_ \- A villain! He can’t be trusted! He betrayed us all!”

“Arthur!” Gwen snaps, looking me hard in the face. “You don’t believe that; I know you don’t. Merlin is your _best friend_ for goodness sake! He’s been by your side for years now, and you don’t trust him just because he has magic? Didn’t we already make that mistake with Morgana?”

“He betrayed me - If he had really trusted me...He would have told me. Why wouldn’t he? Only if he was hiding something else up his sleeve. He’s lived in Camelot, eavesdropping, plotting, and finding our weaknesses. How long would it have been before he decided to strike? I couldn’t take that chance.”

“Arthur...” Gwen breathes. “What have you done?” I do not reply immediately. “What have you done?” She demands more loudly, gripping my arm.

“He will be executed tomorrow morning.” My voice cracks. _Weakness. Don’t be weak. You are the King - you have to be strong and follow through with this._ The voice in my head sounds suspiciously like my Father...I push the thought aside.

“ _No_!” Gwen’s shout is loud and sharp as she pushes me away. “No, he’s not. Tell me you aren’t serious!”

“He broke the law - he...He’s a traitor! I can’t believe I ever _trusted_ him -”

“Shut up! Just - stop! Merlin is your best friend. You _need_ him, Arthur! You’re a better man with him by your side! How much does he have to do for you in order to get that into your head?”

“No,” I deny, pointing to Gwen. “You’re wrong. I was wrong to ever believe he was my friend.”

“This decision...What you’re doing...You’re acting just like Uther.” The Queen storms towards the door, only stopping once she has thrown it open and is standing in the entrance to turn around. “You’re better than this.”

With that, she slams the wooden door closed, causing the loud sound to reverberate around the room.

And that’s when the tears come.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Merlin_ **

We have made it thirty minutes outside of Camelot before the warning bells sound. We’ve been going a quick but reasonably calm pace. Gwaine was kind enough to have Gaius throw my things into my bag before the Knights set me free. The magic book weighs it down, but Gaius must have known that I would want it anyway. Gwaine himself has his own rucksack slung onto his back with food and whatever else he put in there. He no longer wears his Camelot cape or the chainmail. Instead he is dressed in commoner clothes; the ones I found him in when we originally met. I waited with Elyan and Percival while Gwaine changed; he won’t be a knight where we’re going. _Where_ are _we going?_

“Quick, Merlin, we need to run,” the Knight orders, grabbing my arm. “They’ll go looking for us and with their horses it won’t be long until we’re caught if we keep up with this pace.”

I don’t move for a moment, looking back towards Camelot. I can still see the tall towers peeking above the trees in the distance. The sight is so familiar - It’s been my home for so long now. “I’ve thought of this moment since I arrived,” I say quietly, more to myself than to my companion. “Of me running from execution because of something I can’t even control. I tried to stop using magic, but it never worked. So my mother sent me to Gaius, hoping he could help me control it. And now I’m being hunted, just like in my nightmares...” Shaking my head to clear it, I turn back to Gwaine, whose face is a mix of pity and hurriedness. “Come on, let’s go.”

Without another word, we begin to sprint, having wasted too much time already.

* * *

**_Arthur_ **

“Sire, the sorcerer has escaped!” I startle awake from my uncomfortable position in my desk chair. I suppose I fell asleep from pure exhaustion, after all. “Sire!” 

I quickly stand and make my way to the wooden doors, pulling them open to see a panting guard - Christopher; right, that’s his name. “What?” I ask, fully realizing it makes me sound stupid, but my head is pounding and my body aches so I hardly care.

“The sorcerer escaped, Sire!” Christopher replies respectfully, giving me a nod of acknowledgment.

“Don’t be so...” I search for the word. “Polite.” _Goodness, Arthur, what are you talking about? Merlin hasn’t even been gone very long and you already miss being insulted?_

Christopher gives me a strange look. “Sire?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the headache away. “No, sorry. You’re fine. So...Merlin’s not in the dungeons anymore?”

“No, Sire, he’s escaped!”

 _Is that such a bad thing?_ “Is he still in the castle?”

“No, Sire, he seems to have fled immediately.”

“Did he...Hurt anyone when he left?”

“No, Sire, no one was hurt. The cell was just found open and without him in it...Shall I summon some Knights to pursue him?” 

“If no one was hurt then there is no harm done. He will not be chased down.” It is a good thing that Merlin escaped. I don’t know if I would have been able to follow through with his execution anyway. I will not have him dragged back just so that he can die.

“Yes, Sire...” Christopher knows better than to object. _Good. I don’t want to have to defend my choice_.

“But I want some knights and guards to keep an extra watch for a few days...Just in case...Have Leon, Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine form their own groups.” 

“Well...” Christopher suddenly looks especially uncomfortable.

“What?” 

“Sir Gwaine is nowhere to be found.”

* * *

**_Merlin_ **

I finally collapse at the top of a hill. I know we need to keep moving, but I am utterly exhausted. It’s been a mix of running, walking, and dragging our legs for a consecutive three hours now. We’ve stopped a few times by streams to get a drink and eat some of our packed food. Gwaine explained breathlessly that the Camelot kitchens won’t even miss the bread, cheese, and fruit that he stole. I highly doubt that, but I was too hungry to really care.

“Come on, Merlin,” Gwaine sighs, falling beside me. “Not much longer now.”

“I don’t think they’re pursuing us,” I reply with a deep breath.

“No, no I don’t think so.”

“Then why did you keep on insisting that we run?” I sit up to look at him crossly.

“The sooner we get the Ealdor, the better. It’s dangerous for two people to travel at night.”

“I have magic. I could have kept us safe.”

“Well,” Gwaine counters. “I have a sword and my massive good looks.”

“Being handsome is not a weapon,” I point out, rolling my eyes and hiding the small smile.

“It is against the ladies,” the Knight replies with a wink.

“Sorry, but I don’t think you’ll have much flirting time on this trip.” 

“Nah, I’ll find somebody,” Gwaine insists. “But for right now, I’d say we should stop for some rest.” 

“What about the whole ‘it’s dangerous at night’, argument?” I point out, but really all I want is to stop.

“Well, like I said, I can protect us.”

“Sure,” I snort, forcing myself back onto my feet as I walk a little deeper into the forest, looking for a concealed spot to rest.

“I can!” Gwaine protests, clambering after me.

* * *

I’m woken by Gwaine’s frantic shout. Instantly I’m on my feet, eyes wide and assessing the danger.

Four massive - and I mean _huge_ \- wolf mutt creatures are circling the Knight and I. Gwaine stands only a foot away, sword raised and ready to counter an attack. But even he isn’t stupid enough to believe he can fight them off alone. It’s in this moment that I am grateful to have a friend who supports my magic so I can use it openly.

“Uh...Merlin, could you use some of your magic powers to help us out?” Gwaine asks, trying to keep his voice calm.

“You’re good looks aren’t enough to fit these monsters off?” I ask jokingly.

“They just don’t understand a perfect face when they see one!”

I let loose a laugh - the first one in what feels like forever. “It would be a shame to have that ruined, wouldn’t it?” One of the wolves leaps for Gwaine, but I quickly defend him. “ _Scyfe_! **”**

The wolf is flung backwards, colliding with a tree with a _crunch_!

“Wow, good shot,” Gwaine whistles appreciatively, turning to look back at me. His eyes widen a second before he shouts a warning.

I whirl around, just in time to see another beast launch at me, and suddenly all I can see is its massive, snarling mouth in front of mine and I can barely breathe because of the massive weight on top of me and the smell coming from the creature’s mouth is putrid and it’s coming closer to my neck -

The wolf screams in agony above me, and I let loose a terrified cry of my own, sure that I am about to die.

But the creature is kicked off of me, and Gwaine is pulling his sword from the back of its head. I take in grateful heaving breaths. My friend offers me a hand, and I take it, getting unsteadily to my feet. “Thank you...” I gasp.

“No problem,” Gwaine replies, obviously shaken. “Come on, let’s finish them off!”

The wolf I threw into a tree is back up again, hardly even fazed. The other two keep a safe distance from us, but show no signs of backing down.

“Two against three,” I mutter. “Hardly seems fair.”

As if on cue, the beast that Gwaine stabbed gets to its massive feet. The wound in its back has sealed over, so much so that I can’t even tell its exact location.

“Make that four!” Gwaine cries, grabbing my arm and forcing me behind him as he faces the once-fallen creature. “What are these things?”

“Something to do with dark magic!” I shout quickly. “ _Ácéocian_!” I point my palm towards one of the wolves, trying to choke it, but the beast only stumbles a bit before seemingly brushing the spell off. “ _Ád_!” 

The wolf bursts into flames, roaring in a furious agony. Its light grey, bushy fur quickly turns black, and then falls off in a wisp of smoke. The sight is disgusting, but it seems to be working. After a moment, the creature is obviously dead, lying on its side and catching the grass on fire.

“ _Amel_!” The charred body is doused with water, extinguishing the flames. I turn to the other beasts, but they are slowly cowering away from Gwaine and me. I form a small ball of fire in my hand and make to throw it at them -

And they dart away with amazing speed. I let the fire simmer down in my palm, watching it go out completely.

“That was great!” Gwaine exclaims enthusiastically. “Really, Merlin, that was amazing.”

I grin at the compliments - something I’m not quite used to when it comes to my magic.  
And then we hear far-off screaming.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Merlin_ **

We reach the village, out of breath after chasing the wild wolves. People are screaming, opening their doors to see the ruckus and quickly slamming them shut again, probably throwing things against them to keep the door closed and the beasts out.

The wolves are grabbing the few terrified victims who are attempting to beat them with brooms, rakes, and anything sturdy they can find.

I waste no time, pointing my palm towards the nearest mutt. “ _Ád_!” I shout, eyes brimming with magic. The beast bursts into flames from its spot on the grassy floor, hunched and ready to leap for a little girl huddled with a rag doll on the roof of a house. The inhuman cry of the creature rings high above the screams around us.

There is a loud snarl to the left, and I turn quickly, once again pulling my magic to the surface. “ _Ád_!” Just like his companion, this wolf erupts in fire, screeching loudly in agony.

I repeat the process with the third and last mutt, setting its black fur on fire.

I look back to the first creature, and realize my mistake.

The wolf attempted to make a crazed leap to the girl on the roof, and now that’s on fire as well, quickly spreading to engulf the whole house. The child’s screams are heartbreaking, and Gwaine and I run forward to help her.

But before we make it far, another flame a little way away flickers higher and higher as it first catches on a fence and then heads towards the wooden home beside it. The flaming wolf bounds desperately into the large doors of a barn, which lights up as the creature falls dead beside it.

I look back to the girl’s direction, and see Gwaine attempting to struggle past the flame - but before I even have time to incant a spell to extinguish the fire, there is a chorus of cries from the newly-lit barn. I run towards it, figuring I should extinguish the fire threatening the largest group, first. Gwaine can handle himself for now.

“ _Amel_!” I bellow at the flames, ordering them to die down.

Water bursts from my palms, but stops as I lean into my stomach, body reacting as racking coughs attack from the smoke, which is billowing everywhere. There are fires left and right, catching and spreading. It’s absolute chaos. Houses are already beginning to fall under the power of the fire surrounding them. It’s becoming hard to see and my ears have begun to ring a little.

“Merlin!” I hear Gwaine’s shout out of the haze that is threatening to invade my mind. “Merlin, you need to put the fire out!”

“I’m trying!” I shout back, but it turns into more of a cough. I press through it, heading in the Knight’s general direction. I break through a heavy cloud of smoke and see Gwaine, pointing my hands towards him and the girl’s home. “ _Amel_!” Water pours out once again.

My magic comes to a sudden screeching halt as the final wolf mutt crashes into me, slamming me to the ground and catching my clothes on fire. It doesn’t stay, though, instead making a mad attempt to escape the flame that remains on its fur. I don’t know where it ends up. All I know is that the pain is worse than being poisoned or getting stung by a serket. It’s worse than being stabbed or shot.

The agony is everything I always feared it would be. An all-consuming pain that burns sharp and clearly, engulfing all of my senses. I can’t hear the surrounding screams anymore - all I can hear is my own cries of pain and the roaring of the fire around me.

I roll out of my jacket and pound at my trousers, all the while screaming all the magical solutions I can think of to end the pain. “ _Amel_! _Ácwencan_! _Ácwencan_!”

The flames extinguish, but the village still burns around me. Before I can attempt to help further, darkness takes over.

* * *

**_Gwaine_ **

I make a move the instant Merlin sends his water spell at the burning hut, clambering onto a fallen barrel and hoisting myself up onto the roof where the little girl is screaming.

“Take my hand!” I call to her, eyes watering at the smoke all around me. I faintly realize that Merlin’s spell stopped. A bad feeling sinks in my stomach.

“I’m scared!” The girl screams. She can’t be older than five, clutching her rag doll to her heart as if it can save her. “Help me!”

“Give me your hand and I’ll help you!” I insist, reaching out. She’s just far enough that I can’t get to her unless she comes forward. “It’s going to be okay!”

To my utter relief, the girl nods her head and reaches out for me. I quickly circle her wrist with my hand and get a firm grip. And then I realize that the fire is surrounding us on all sides, trapping us on the roof, which has begun to shake with the weight of the fire and our bodies. The flames flicker towards us every second. I pull the girl to me, holding her securely to my chest with my arms around her as I frantically look for an escape route.

“Help!” I call, voice cracking and then turning into a violent cough. “Merlin, over here! Help!”

There is shouting, but it sounds distant because of the girl’s cries and raging fire all around us. And then blessed water crashes into the flames behind me, and then more and after a moment, more of the saving liquid rams into the fire, partially extinguishing it. I waste no time in jumping off the roof through the new hole in the flames. 

I hold the girl carefully so as not to fall on her when we land, though once my feet hit the grassy floor my knees give out under me. A villager catches me before I collapse on my face. 

Looking up, I see villagers hastily passing buckets filled with water and dumping them on the roaring fires, beginning with the largest first. But what is Merlin?  
I look around frantically for my friend, and then I see him, and my heart drops.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m a writer...” I thought insistently as I forced myself to search ‘bad burns’ on Google...

**_Gwaine_ **

I prop Merlin’s body on my arms, wrapping them under his and hoisting him up. There is a group of villagers tending to some wounded friends nearby, and I pull Merlin over. 

“Please, do you have anything to heal his burns? He’s hurt badly!” I call.

“Don’t bring him any closer!” A man threatens, stretching his arm out in caution.

“Please, he is injured - you can’t turn him away! He needs medical attention!”

“That sorcerer caused all of this! He’s a threat to us all!” Another woman cries, holding her son close to her chest. 

“Monster! We should finish him off ourselves!” A large man bellows, coming up from behind me and reaching for my friend.

“No! None of this was his fault!” I object, pulling away and holding the semi-charred body as carefully as possible. “He was trying to help!”

“Help by burning our village to the ground?” Another woman screams, eyes gleaming with tears. “My baby is _dead_ because of that monster! He set my home on fire and the only precious thing I had left was taken from me!” A shiver runs through my body as the woman breaks down into tears, falling to her knees. Two other women run over to hug her close and send Merlin murderous glares.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, but I promise that Merlin is no murderer - he was merely attempting to stop the wolves. He didn’t know this would happen!”

“Enough of your lies!” The large man snarls, brandishing a rake. “Hand the sorcerer over and we’ll let you live.”

“No bloody way,” I growl back, distancing myself further from the group. Out of the corner of my eye I see a young teenage boy struggling to calm a horse which was rescued from the burning barn. The saddle and reins are still attached. Just as another angry townsperson lunges for me holding a charred piece of wood in his hands, I throw Merlin over my shoulder, hissing at the dull groan of pain that escapes him through his unconsciousness. Without hesitating further, I race towards the horse, pushing the boy out of the way none-too gently as I slump Merlin’s body across the horse’s neck and jump up behind him. 

There are angry shouts and the sounds of running feet behind me, but I set the horse into a gallop and escape the small, burnt village before anyone can catch up.

* * *

I stop only because I know the horse needs rest. The sun has begun to rise as a new day begins, and we’re still about half an hour from reaching Ealdor. I hoist Merlin off of the horse, laying him gently on the grassy floor. 

I look over my friend despairingly. His burns are severe, but there is nothing I can do for him. Shrugging my rucksack off my back and pulling out my water skin, I give the last gulps to Merlin slowly. His body swallows instinctively, and I use my sleeve to wipe away the water that misses his mouth altogether.

“Hang in there, mate,” I whisper. “You’re going to be okay.” 

* * *

Finally we reach Ealdor. There are several townspeople who seem rather surprised to see the horse pounding into the village. I pull the reins hard and the steed comes to a halt beside a wooden fence behind which a woman is picking vegetables.

“Where is Hunith’s home?” I ask hastily, skipping formalities.

“Why do you ask?” She asks suspiciously. It’s then that her eyes land on Merlin. “Goodness - is that-?”

“Yes, this is Hunith’s son. There was an accident and I need her _now_.”

“It’s right across from this one,” the woman says, pointing across the dirt road which runs through the village to a small hut. I nod in thanks and jump off the horse, easing Merlin down and into my arms before rushing over to his old home.

I pound on the door loudly, not caring how rude it may be. After a moment, Hunith’s familiar face greets me as she opens the door.

“You’ll wake the whole village with that racket-” It’s then that she sees Merlin drooping in my arms. “Come inside.”

I obey her clipped tone, carrying my friend with me into the home. Hunith hastily closes the door behind us before hustling over to the table and quickly removing the odds and ends from it. “Put him here, hurry.”

I lay Merlin on the wood, being as careful as possible. “We were coming here when-”

“No time for explanations now - we need to treat these burns. Help me remove his shirt; I have to see the extent of the damage.”

“R-right,” I reply, hastily helping the woman peel off Merlin’s tunic. I almost wish we hadn’t - his chest and stomach are bright red, some spots white, hints of black, charred skin are flaky and peeling, the flesh seeming to have bubbled all over my friend’s body. My stomach threatens to empty itself on the wooden floorboards.

Hunith swears under her breath, but I can hardly blame her. “I-I don’t have anything to heal burns this bad...” She whispers, voice quivering.

“Can’t he do something to heal himself, you know...” I drop my voice to a whisper. “With _magic_?”

“You know?” The worried mother’s eyes dart up to meet mine. I nod in response. “We need to wake him up.”

Instantly I reach down and force my boot off. With a second more of consideration, I pull my sock off as well and jam it under my friend’s nose, praying that my foot stench is really capable of waking the dead, as my friends have told me. _Not dead...Anything but dead..._

After an agonizing moment, Merlin’s eyelids begin to flutter and his face jerks away from my smelly garment. I breathe a hasty sigh of relief as my friend gags at the stink.

“What the -?” Merlin groans, shaking his head and attempting to sit up. I hastily push my hand against his forehead - afraid of touching anywhere else lest I hurt him further - and force him back down. 

“Don’t move, sweetie,” Hunith soothes, brushing her son’s hair back. “You’re badly injured.”

“I’m - agh!” The pain seems to catch up all at once with my friend as he lets loose a cry of pain, tears forming in his eyes and he closes them tightly. “W-what _happened_?”

“You got burned badly-” His mother begins. Merlin’s eyes dart back open at the word ‘burn’, and his breath quickens.

“Arthur -”

Hunith gasps, clasping her hands to her mouth. “He...He...”

“No,” I interrupt quickly. “No, Merlin, this wasn’t Arthur. Remember, you were trying to stop those wolf mutts - you lit them on fire to kill them. But they ran into a village and set it ablaze. I don’t know what happened to you, exactly. I just turned around and you were like this on the ground.”

My friend’s breath slows once again as he gives a little nod. “Yes...Yes. One of them barreled into me - it was awful. Oh!” He lets out a barely restrained cry as he slams his eyes shut once again.

“Merlin, dear, do you know any spells to heal burns?” Hunith asks hastily.

“Those are the only ones I’m not rubbish at. You take a special interest in them when...well...” 

“Hurry, Merlin,” I insist.

He nods again, laying his palms on his chest, hissing in pain as they make contact with the burns. “F-Forbærning.” I watch in fascination as the severely burnt flesh agonizingly slowly scabs over, returning to its usual pale shade.

“Brilliant,” I whisper. Merlin smiles slightly at the comment, though his eyes remain clenched shut.

We all jump at the sound of knocking at the door. “Hunith? It’s me, Mary,” 

The mother breathes a sigh of relief and goes to open the door, upon which she hastily ushers in the woman from the vegetable patch.

“Oh good, he’s healing himself. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him like that.” Mary’s words take me by surprise.

“You know, too?” I ask. 

“My son Will was never very good at keeping secrets from me,” she replies, a hint of sadness entering her tone. I briefly remember Merlin mentioning his old friend from Ealdor - the one who died while they were fighting to protect it.

“You mentioned a village - how close was it?” Hunith asks, returning to Merlin, who remains in deep concentration as he grits his teeth against the pain. I watch with a small grin on my face as I notice his head lean into his mother’s touch as she rubs his cheek.

“About two hours away. I don’t know this area well, so I didn’t even know it was there,” I reply.

“That must be Florin,” Mary points out.

“But they’ve always been helpful people. If Merlin was hurt there then why did you come all the way to Ealdor?” Hunith asks.

My face darkens. “They blamed Merlin for burning the village and refused to help. One woman accused him of murdering her baby -”

“What?” The warlock’s eyes snap open, the gold of his spell fading from them as he looks to me. “I - I didn’t-”

“No, Merlin, of course it wasn’t your fault - you were trying to stop the wolves -”

“But the woman - she was wrong, surely? I - didn’t - I mean I couldn’t - not kill her child -”

“I didn’t see, Merlin, but listen - “

My friend shakes his head, pushing his mother’s hand away as he sits up. His eyes are large, begging. “It’s not true. It can’t be - though. That was _never_ supposed to happen!”

“You need to calm down, Merlin,” I persist, trying to force him to lie down once again. “None of it was your fault -”

“If a child is dead because of what I did then it _is_ my fault, Gwaine!” Merlin shouts, making me take a step backwards in surprise. “I’ve killed men before but never if they weren’t a threat to Camelot or those I love - I would never murder an innocent child!”

“It wasn’t _murder_! It was an accident!” I retaliate.

  
“Too much pain has been caused because of my ‘accidents’...” Merlin whispers. “This is why magic is outlawed in Camelot. Because it only hurts those it touches.”


	7. Chapter 7

**_Arthur_ **

I had to repeatedly stop myself from sharing bored looks with Merlin during the council meeting early this morning. Every time I looked, my manservant wasn’t there.

I haven’t heard anything about Merlin since he left, but I force myself to take that as a good thing. I don’t doubt that Gwaine left with him. Percival, Elyan, and Leon haven’t quite been meeting my eyes, which leads me to believe they had something to do with it as well. Gwen refuses to talk to me.

I’ve hardly gotten any sleep in the past couple of days. There’s something completely unrelaxing about sleeping beside your wife when you can practically _feel_ the anger radiating off of her. Not to mention I had a particularly bad dream involving something to do with Merlin being on fire. He was in some village and...I couldn’t make out everything, nor did I want to. It was already awful enough to feel the agony of the flames myself before jolting awake.

Even the worst swordsman among the knights was able to easily disarm me during training today. I was too busy remembering attempting - and _failing_ \- to teach Merlin how to parry an opponent.

Thinking of my friend hurts too much. The idiot became like a younger brother to me over the years. And now _I’m_ the fool, sentencing him to death for something he said he was _born_ with. Anger at myself and my mistakes burns inside of me, and I suddenly have the urge to throw something. Unfortunately my throne is far too heavy, so I continue searching until my hands find the crown on my head. Merlin told me it makes my head look like a melon, which at the time of course I resented. He had to muck out the stables for that comment.

With an angry cry, I hurl the jeweled gold to the floor a little distance away. Collapsing into my throne, I cover my face with my hands, wishing the world away as the fury inside of me turns to an actual _pain_ in my chest. I feel as if I can barely move, the guilt is pressing on me so hard.

A skinny servant scurries into the throne room, and I look up at his hesitant cough. As the large doors are hurriedly closed, I see two other servants attempting to hide. Another pang of guilt stabs my heart. My mood is not only affecting me, but also scaring others in the castle.

“What is it, Josef?” I ask, trying to keep the weariness from entering my voice. I’m not sure how convincing it was.

The servant seems to perk up a bit that I remembered his name, and plucks up the courage to look me in the eyes, if only slightly. “Sire,” he begins, voice quavering a bit. “There is a young man who has come to request an audience with you.” 

“Merlin?” I ask, heartbeat quickening as I rise to my feet.

The servant’s face falls. “N-no, Sire. He says his name is Asher of Florin.”

My hope falls again, and I nod slowly. “Send him in, then.”

Josef nods quickly before turning and practically running from the large room. I go to fetch my crown, checking it over momentarily to ensure I didn’t do any real damage, and return to my throne. A moment later a village man enters alongside one of the guards.

“King Arthur, Sire,” Asher bows deeply, head bent in reverence.

“Rise,” I say offhandedly, just wanting him to get on with it so I can be left alone again. “What is it that you wanted to tell me?”

“There has been an attack on the village of Florin, your Majesty,” Asher says quickly, eyes glinting in anger. “A sorcerer set it ablaze late last night.”

At the word ‘sorcerer’, I feel my world crash around me. _It’s not Merlin. He wouldn’t do that. Don’t jump to conclusions, you Clotpole_.

Asher continues, desperation and anger fueling him on. “He had a companion with him as well, who was trying to convince us that it was some sort of _accident_. He ran with the sorcerer when we wanted to finish the scum off -”

“Finish him off?” I ask hurriedly, rising in my seat. “Who, the...Sorcerer? Was he injured?”

“Yes,” the man says excitedly, and my stomach does a somersault. “He used giant wolves to help spread the fire, setting them ablaze and letting them run crazily. He got a painful shock when one of them ran into _him_!”

My dream comes back to my mind. Merlin screaming in pain while I felt it all. The flames surrounding me. The screams in the village all round...

“What is his name? What does he look like?”

“Tall with jet black hair. Looked like a pale twig rather than a man of any good making - but what can you expect from a no good -”

“What is his name?” I ask loudly, jumping to my feet and staring down at the townsman. Asher cowers a bit, but answers the question all the same. I wholeheartedly wish he hadn’t.

“His friend called him Merlin.”

I fall back in my throne, hands finding my face again as I bow my head. There is utter silence for a long time. “Are you _absolutely_ sure that it was not an accident on his part?” 

“He set the whole village _ablaze_! Four villagers _died_ that night and six more are severely injured!” 

“But Merlin would not do any of that on purpose!” I counter loudly.

Asher takes a step back, eyes widening. “You...You _know_ the scum?” 

“He is - _was_...My manservant.”

Anger seems to boil over the surface inside of the man before me. “That man is a _murderer_ and a _sorcerer_! Magic is outlawed, or have you forgotten?”

“You will not speak to the King that way!” The guard in the room speaks for the first time, grabbing Asher’s arm before the man forces it from his grasp.

“I’m sorry; I did not realize the King of Camelot was such a _fool_.” 

“I didn’t either...” I say, the weariness catching up to me all over again.

“You must see for yourself, _Sire_ ,” Asher spits my title out as if it is a filthy insult. Maybe it is. “You have a duty to your kingdom. Florin has always followed the laws of Camelot and served under its reign faithfully. Your people deserve justice against their enemies!”

  
“I’ll ride with you to Florin in an hour,” I respond finally. “I cannot promise what the outcome will be...But...I will go.”


	8. Chapter 8

**_Arthur_ **

My heart sinks as I arrive at the charred remains of Florin. Some buildings still stand untouched, but most are badly damaged, and others are just piles of debris. I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything; that Merlin was not the cause.  
  
But there’s the evidence lying before me, and Asher’s word. The frightened townspeople around hurt worst of all, eyes wide in anger at the person who caused this, and hope at the sight of me and my knights.  
  
“Your majesty!” An elderly woman runs up before falling to her knees before my halted horse. “Thank you for coming so quickly. The sorcerer left us all in such a bad way.” 

“Y-yes, of course,” I say, trying to keep my voice strong. “I am sincerely sorry for everything that has happened to you.”  
  
“It was that monster; that _sorcerer_! He did this to us completely unprovoked!” Asher bellows out in front of the gathering crowd. Many join in with angry shouts of agreement. The sound of some children can be heard further back.  
  
“You said his companion denied this, though?” I ask Asher, desperately searching for confirmation for my friend.

“Oh, he _tried_ to trick us, Sire, but why would we ever believe that when we saw for ourselves how the sorcerer set flaming monsters into our homes?” The woman calls again, rising to her feet to meet my eyes.  
  
“My wife died because of him!” A pain-stricken voice shouts above the others.

“The sorcerer must be found and killed at once!” Another furious man cries.

“Arthur,” Elyan’s voice breaks the turmoil in my head, and I turn in my saddle to meet his gaze. The Knight keeps his voice low so the townspeople can’t hear. “We know Merlin. He would never do this.”

“But...All of the evidence is here,” I say desperately, shaking my head. “I don’t want to believe it either...But what choice do I have?”

“Trust Merlin,” Percival says forcefully. “There must be more to what happened than what these people know or are telling us.”

“Leon, what do you say?” I ask the senior Knight.

Leon doesn’t speak for a long moment, looking down at his hands before looking up at me at last. “I don’t want to believe it, Sire...But...If everything happened as these people say, then...”

“How can I know I can trust what I thought I knew of Merlin over the word of an entire village?”

“You know what Gwaine would say -” Percival begins gruffly.

“Yes, and that’s why he ran off with Merlin, isn’t it?” I snap back. 

“You sentenced Merlin to _death_ , Arthur,” Percival persists. “You can’t have expected Merlin to stay and let himself be killed. And you know how Gwaine is -”

“He _left_ Camelot. He broke his code. He ran off with a criminal against the kingdom. Gwaine is guilty of _treason_ , or have you not realized?”

The large Knight stares me squarely in the eyes. “Gwaine pledged to protect the people of Camelot, and that’s what he was doing when he left with Merlin. Now what’s your choice?” There is a long silence that follows the question - even the townspeople have quieted, anxiously trying to hear the conversation.  
  
I feel utterly conflicted. Just days ago I would have trusted Merlin with my life. But now that I know he has magic, that he’s been practicing it behind my back even though it is evil...I don’t know what to do. 

And then there is Florin - burnt and broken. Somehow I know these people are not lying about what happened, but I do still doubt that Merlin could ever do such an awful thing on purpose.

In the end, I know I have to make the decision between what I believe is right, and what my father would do if he were still alive.

* * *

 

**_Merlin_ **

It took some insisting on Mother and Gwaine’s part, but I finished healing the nasty burns that were still covering my legs. Now I sit behind the hut alone, without a plan and frankly just trying to push away the reality of everything around me.  
  
I killed at least one person yesterday. A _baby_. Gwaine and Mother have been trying to convince me that it wasn’t my fault; that I was only trying to help. And part of me knows that they’re right. But how am I supposed to accept that? I don’t see how I can.

I cannot just sit back and tell myself that ‘accidents happen’ - not when lives were lost because of my mistakes.

I’m broken from my reverie when a scream breaks out on the other side of my childhood home.

Instantly I’m on my feet and running around to the main path of Ealdor, heart pounding in terror, but knowing I have to know what is happening.

Knights of Camelot on horseback are galloping into the village, swords and crossbows drawn. Behind them are less impressive men; some with horses and some running on foot, brandishing clunky weapons or rakes and spades. The strange mix storms into Ealdor, leaping down from their steads and storming into random homes.

I duck back behind my mother’s home once again, rushing into the back door. Gwaine and Mother turn abruptly at my hasty entrance, and the Knight unsheathes his sword out of instinct. They both visibly calm at the sight of me. 

“It’s Arthur,” I say in shock. “He’s found me.”

* * *

 

**_Arthur_ **

All eyes are on me, awaiting my response with baited breath. 

In that split second, my choice is made. 

“I believe what you are saying. And I know the sorcerer who did this...”

* * *

  ** _Merlin_**

“But...You two are friends...Why would he go after you?” Mother gasps, eyes wide as she shakes her head quickly.

“He must have found out about what happened in Florin,” Gwaine replies glumly. He quickly follows this comment by a series of curse words that, if it we were in different circumstances, I would have shouted at him for saying in front of my mother. “He’s just like his father after all.”

* * *

**_Arthur_ **

“I know the sorcerer,” I repeat. “And because of this...I know that he did not mean for this to happen. There must be a reasonable explanation for what happened. I won’t strike against him until I know precisely what happened.”


	9. Chapter 9

**_Arthur_ **

A powerful, furious cry erupts from the townspeople before me in response to my words. Women hold their children in tight embraces, and men bellow in outrage.

“You’re our King, you should be protecting us!”

“I promise I would set out against the sorcerer if I thought he did this intentionally -” I counter quickly, attempting to raise my voice above all the others around me.

“Liar!”

“You’re nothing but a coward!”

“That monster killed my baby!”

“You will speak to your King with respect!” Leon commands, resting his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

“He does not deserve our respect!” Asher growls, taking a step forward and pointing an accusatory finger at me. “He is nothing but a heartless fool!”

Shouts of agreement rise from the small village, and before I know it they are charging forward, brandishing rakes and carving knifes. I signal to my men, and we draw our swords instantly, pulling back on our horse’s reins to further get out of danger.

Angry hands clasp my ankles; so many that I am forced down from my saddle and into the throng of townspeople.

All at once I find myself terrified, because I do not want to cause any of these people harm. I know full well that they have already suffered enough! But then again if I do not fight back, they could very well kill me.

I quickly steady myself, shoving my attackers away before pointing my sword at them, circling around so no one can attack me from behind. In an instant they have me surrounded, warily holding their threadbare weapons.

“Back down now and I will not charge any of you with the treason you are attempting to commit,” I say forcefully, praying that they will listen. “I don’t want to hurt any of you. You are all still my people.”

I react out of instinct when I see the movement behind me. My years of combat training come into play as I smoothly bring my sword to defend myself. 

And to my utter horror, I’m met with the sight of the woman who claimed that Merlin killed her baby. She had been attempting to clobber me with a frying pan. My sword made a clean cut across her stomach; a quick death. Her lifeless body collapses a moment before I feel something sturdy colliding with the back of my skull, and I, too, fall into darkness.

* * *

**_Percival_ **

I know the fight is lost the moment I see Arthur go down.

I jump down from my horse and shove my way through the crowd to get to my King, and seize the arm of the man who is about to use Arthur’s own sword to kill him. The attacker fights against me, and I know that the whole village will pounce in a matter of moments if I don’t think fast.

“You can’t kill the King!” I shout, wrestling against the man. “You have already committed treason. Do you all want to be hung for murder, too? Stop and think what Arthur’s death would mean for Camelot - you would leave Queen Guinevere _alone_ to rule! Do you realize how much that could jeopardize the kingdom? If Camelot was left vulnerable then tyrants could gain control of it! Don’t you remember King Cenred?”

“Another Cenred would be better than another Pendragon!” The man with the sword spits in my face, trying to wrench his hand from my grasp.

“Fool! Cenred enslaved his people! Arthur has always been good to you!”

“He’s letting the sorcerer go!” Another woman screams. 

“You call that _caring_ for us?” An elderly man cries.

“We won’t kill the King,” The man who led us here stills the man with the sword. Angry cries start against him, but he merely raises his hands to still them. “We’ll leave him and any who oppose us unconscious in the woods, and then we will ride to find the sorcerer ourselves!”  

“How do we know where he is?” Arthur’s attacker demands, finally allowing me to take control of the sword. 

“He and his friend rode in the direction of Ealdor,” Asher announces, and my heart drops. “We will start there!”

“Quick, rise against the King’s knights so we can leave immediately!” Another voice cries, and once again the people start for me and my fellow knights.

“Wait - I will join you,” I say suddenly, taking them by surprise. 

“You will commit treason against your King?” Asher sneers.

“I don’t want the King dead, but that does not mean I agree with him about the sorcerer,” I lie quickly. “I too believe that he must be eradicated.”

Asher looks at me for a long moment, calculating my words. Finally he nods his head. “Good choice.”

Unfortunately, though, as I turn to tell Elyan and Leon to lie as I did, I see them fighting back against the crowd, becoming quickly outnumbered and falling as did our King.

I will be Merlin’s only friend riding to Ealdor within a mob of those that would see him dead. I can only hope that he and Gwaine have left the village by now, and will not be there by the time we arrive.

I have a gut feeling that luck will not be on our side.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Percival_ **

I do not meet the eyes of the other knights of Camelot who have joined in our march for Ealdor. Only a handful of the men fought back against the village before being knocked unconscious. And after only a half hour of listening to the heated conversations of the men who came, I already know that none of them are going to protect Merlin. 

The thought makes me sick. These men _know_ Merlin. He was kind to all of them, lending a hand and putting a smile on all of our faces. And now they look on with hard faces, muttering about betrayal and dark magic.

I don’t know how long we’ve been walking now, at least a couple of hours. As I make it to the top of a hill, my heart twists in concern as my eyes land on the small village before us. 

“What if he is no longer there?” I ask Asher, who has been walking beside me, no doubt keeping a suspicious eye on me.

“We’ll turn the whole place over to find the magic scum, and if he’s moved on, we march on until we find him!” The man shouts over the crowd around us. Cheers erupt, and arms raise high in agreement. I join in, even though it sends a pang of guilt through me. 

I run with the men down the hill, adding to the angry shouts all around, and drawing my sword as the others pull out their own weapons.

_Just get in, find Merlin and Gwaine, and get out._

* * *

**_Merlin_ **

Screams of terror join in with the angry shouting of our attackers from outside, the sound making my skin crawl. I look desperately to Gwaine, who is anxiously running his hands through his hair.”

“Gwaine, what do we do?” 

“They may just want you mate,” My friend says hurriedly, peeking out of the small window of my old home. “And if that’s the case, we have to get you out of here,”

“But I don’t understand,” Mother intones frantically. “Arthur is your friend. Why would he do this?”

“He’s not like I thought he was,” I reply, looking to the floor. “His mistrust against magic won over our friendship. He was crushed when he found out...”

“We need to leave,” Gwaine interrupts, grabbing my arm and looking me straight in the eyes. “All of us. If the princess really has led this cowardly attack, then you’re not safe either, Hunith. He knows Merlin came here, and so he’ll know we visited you.”

“Right,” Mother nods in understanding. “Mary, none of this has to concern you. They need never know you were involved.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone -”

“I’m not alone; I’ll have Merlin and Gwaine. I’m in good hands. You stay here and keep safe.”

“Mary,” I interrupt, mindful of the time we’re wasting. “You have a responsibility to this village, and I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I put you in danger.”

The woman looks at me for a moment, before simply nodding her head and hurrying to the back door. She turns back, hesitates for a second longer, and says quietly, “Best of luck. Goodness knows all of you have been through too much already.” 

“So have you. Now go,” Mother ushers her friend out the door, peering outside to ensure Mary makes it out safely.

“Bloody, cowardly traitor,” Gwaine hisses in anger, closing his eyes at the sound of chaos outside. “I should cut him myself -”

“Gwaine!” I bark angrily as the familiar wave of protectiveness for Arthur comes at my friend’s words. “I’m as resentful towards Arthur as you are, but he’s still my best friend and my king, and no matter what he does to me, I’d still gladly die for him. Nothing will change that. It’s my destiny to protect him, and I’ll always hold to that.”

“Why haven’t they found us yet? Arthur knows where I live...” Mother cuts in before Gwaine gets the chance to speak.

“No need to test luck,” The knight says hurriedly, giving Mother and I a push towards the back door before drawing his sword and following behind. “We need to get far away from Ealdor.”

I grab my bag along with Gwaine’s rucksack and sneak out through the door. To my relief, there are no enemies waiting for us. Gwaine gives me another small nudge, encouraging me to move.

The three of us rush out and around the hut, and what I see makes me skip a breath.

The small village is in pandemonium. The townspeople have banded together to try to fight off the attackers, not stopping to protect their village and children. The ones fighting Camelot knights clearly stand no chance, desperately attempting to beat their enemies with dulled swords and fire pokers; while others are battling against the people of Florin with brooms or anything else they could get their hands on. Fortunately for us, the men and few women from Florin seem to have little to no experience for a situation such as this.

Just then my eyes land on little Hunter, who must only be six by this point. Instantly I remember how much pain his parents have already gone through with two miscarriages and another eight-year-old daughter who died in a bandit attack. And there, just a few feet in front of me, is this child, staring wide eyed with fear at the death around him. He quickly leaves my sight again as the mass of fighting swirls in-between us.

In a split second, my decision is made, and I dart out for him, managing to slip deftly through a good bit of the small battle raging in the village.

A strong hand catches my arm, wrenching my back in my haste to get the boy, and knocking me to the ground. Before I know it, a body follows, falling onto my stomach and pinning my arms down despite my struggles. 

I buck and try to wrench my arms down from under my attacker’s, but they are much stronger than me, and my exertion only results in claiming more of my already little energy. I look up; ready to plead with the man on top of me, but my breath catches in my throat.

This is Sir Geredick, a trusted and highly ranked knight of Camelot. We have shared laughs before, and when Gwaine got him drunk once, we even managed to make him insult Arthur. I do not want to hurt this man, who I had come to know as a kind acquaintance. But he is looking at me angrily, kicking me in the leg when I attempt to twist out from under him.

“Please,” I beg as he uses one can to keep both of my wrists still, the other reaching for his sword, which I managed to dislodge from his hand in my fall. “Don’t do this!”

Sir Geredick answers by pressing his blade against my throat, making me sink as far into the ground as I can. “You are guilty of treason, and you know full well that crime is punishable by death.”

“I don’t want to hurt you -”

“I thought you were a wholesome man, Merlin,” the Knight falters a bit at this. “So for your sake I’ll make this quick.” His sword draws back a bit, giving him more leverage to slit my throat. 

Heart constricting in regret, my eyes burn gold. “Áweorpan wierp!” Sir Geredick blasts backwards, eyes wide in surprise as he slams back into the fighting all around and crashing onto the ground.

It feels like time slows down as the fighting ceases and everyone looks in the direction the flying knight came from. Everyone stares at me in silence and surprise for just a moment before cries of “There he is! It’s the sorcerer!” Ring out, and knights and village people of Florin both rush forward, forgetting the people of Ealdor that they had been interrogating for my whereabouts.

I scramble back to my feet, stretching my arms out in front of me in a warning. “I swear I didn’t mean to do Florin any harm!” I shout at them as they halt, warily eying hands, anticipating magic to come from them at any moment. “It was all an awful, horrific accident, and I feel terrible about it. Now please, I don’t want to hurt any of you!” My eyes lock onto the towering frame of Percival, stuck at the back of the crowd and staring at fear. To see my friend here hurts more than I would like. I haven’t seen Arthur anywhere yet, but I have no doubt that he led the attack. Why else would all of these Camelot knights be here?

“Merlin!” I whip around to see my mother jump in front of me, where I hadn’t been paying attention, as I had been facing away and preoccupied with the previous crowd, not realizing that the battle was behind me as well.

I feel as though I am in some awful dream as I watch in horror, unable to move fast enough to stop the arrow that is only an inch from my mother’s heart.

And then it lands, making an awful sound that joins in with her scream of agony as her body crumples to the ground, only stopped by my trembling arms as I catch her, blood already pooling from her chest where the arrow struck.  

The village is dead silent for only a moment before Gwaine’s feet thud against the dirt road as he quickly comes to our aid.

I feel something inside of me break. A sharp, agonizing pain as my breath is taken from me and my mind whirls, thoughts flying everywhere but without any of them finding a place to land. This arrow was meant for me; meant to lodge into my back as I was distracted.

  
My eyes flash a vibrant gold as I let out a scream, even louder than the one I let loose when my father died. The sky roars above us, the ground shaking, screams joining in with my wordless magic.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Gwaine_ **

Merlin's scream breaks my heart. It almost sounds animalistic; so full of agony and grief. It’s only when the ground starts to shake that I realize my friend could very well kill us all. It’s pouring down rain, Merlin and the people of Ealdor are screaming, and it feels as if the world has been struck with a massive earthquake.  

“Merlin!” I try to shout over the terrible sounds around me, but it’s no use. My attempts to reach the sobbing warlock are worthless as with another ripple of magic, I’m sent flying backwards.

* * *

**_Merlin_ **

I don’t know when the chaos ends. I don’t really care to pay it much attention. All I can focus on is the fact that my mother just died in my arms. She jumped in front of that arrow to save my life and now she’s gone forever.

That and the fact that this is all _Arthur’s_ fault. He refused to listen to what I had to say, and forced me to run. He led the Knights and villagers of Florin into Ealdor. He is the reason my mother has been shot in the heart.

And I know now all the things he and his father are responsible for. I had always tried to deny it; claim that Arthur had nothing to do with it. But I was young and naive, and oh so wrong. 

My father would still be alive if it weren’t for Uther. My family could have even stayed together all these years if it weren’t for that tyrant. And Arthur _murdered_ Freya. He killed her without a second thought.

I peel my eyes away from Mother, finally looking around at the village. The closest homes have crumbled, now just piles of stone and rubble. The small cottage I called home for many years sits completely intact, just the way I remember it. There are Florin villagers lying sprawled across the ground, contrasting from the bright red capes of the fallen knights of Camelot. Some of them are dead, I note with an absent mind. But I don’t care about them.

The people of Ealdor are cowering nearby, staring with wide, teary eyes at the aftereffects of my magic. They were not touched in all of the pandemonium, though. Not a single one of them harmed. As I slowly rise to my feet, I see Gwaine laying a little bit away, evidently thrown back by my spell. I vaguely remember his voice - very far away, like a whisper on the thundering wind.

I cross to him, placing a hand on his chest. “Áwacian **,** ” I whisper, sending a small jolt into his body. Gwaine’s eyes flutter open instantly, and take a moment to focus. Once they do, he jumps to his feet, grabbing my shoulders and looking me over before taking in our surroundings.

“No...” He breathes, shaking his head. “No, Merlin, tell me you didn’t...”

“They aren’t all dead,” I reply without a trace of remorse. 

“Aren’t _all_ -?” Gwaine splutters. “Merlin, I know, I’m so sorry about your mother, but -”

“Choose your words carefully, Gwaine,” I say in a soft, dangerous voice, looking deep into his eyes.

“Merlin, you just killed innocent people, and you don’t even care -” 

A cold, high laugh escapes me as I look up at the sky, reveling in the stupidity of Gwaine’s words. “ _Innocent_?” I add once I’ve finished. I examine Gwaine’s horrified face with a sudden anger. “Those people didn’t have a single drop of innocent blood in their veins. If it makes you feel better, though, I’ll let the unconscious ones go without one scratch.”

“No it doesn’t make me feel bloody better!” Gwaine roars, shaking his head in fury. “What _happened_ to you? You’ve been through traumatic experiences and I know this is unimaginably awful, but -”

I grab the front of Gwaine’s tunic in two hands, twisting the fabric and getting in his face. “Pick whose side you’re on, Gwaine,” I threaten in an icy voice. “And think hard about it. I’ll let you run back to your precious king and Camelot, but it won’t do you any good. Go against me, and you’ll be fighting a losing battle.” I let him go, backing up and scanning the crowd once again. My eyes land on a moving figure on the ground, and a smirk creeps onto my face.

I reach the large knight, standing above him and fixing him with a deep glare. “You should not have come here, Percival.”

My old friend starts, eyes snapping open as he tries to get to his feet. I stop him with my boot; pushing against his chest and easing him back down. I can see the thoughts flitting through his mind, reflected in his eyes shifting from my face and my foot. He knows that when it comes to physical strength, he could split me in two. My daring grin seems to make the decision for him, and he lies still.

“Merlin, listen to me -” Percival begins hastily.

“Where is he?”

“Who? Merlin -”

“ _Arthur_ , fool. Where is your king?”

“Merlin, don’t hurt him!” Gwaine’s voice penetrates the tenseness between Percival and I. He is by my side in an instant, grasping my arm before I shove him off. “Merlin, you _know_ he didn’t do this -”

“I came here to try to protect you, I promise -” The knight on the ground breaks in.

“Have you been possessed or something?” Gwaine asks desperately.

“The people of Florin wanted to kill you and I knew I had to stop them -” 

“ _Silence_!” I bellow, eyes flashing a vibrant gold, shoving Percival into the ground, actually creating a small dent in the dirt, and sending Gwaine to fall on his backside. “Answer my question, Percival. Where is Arthur?”

“He isn’t here!” The knight shouts back, eyes wide.

“Of course he isn’t, the coward.” I shake my head, seething. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just need to send him a message. You’ll have to do as messenger,” I narrow my eyes at Percival below me.

“Arthur did not lead this fight, Merlin. Listen to me!" 

“What? He didn’t? What happened?” Gwaine interjects, voice rising in hope.

“Shut up!” I silence them both with a glare again. “I don’t care what you have to say. I can’t trust your word. Now, Percival, you will deliver my message to Arthur, and in exchange, I’ll let you live. Believe me when I say that if you try to stop me in the future, I will kill you. Understood?”

“Yes,” Percival responds, though his tone doesn’t imply that he understands anything that is going on.

“Good. The message is this: You’ve started a war that you cannot win. You are responsible for the death of my mother, and for that I will kill you. Once I’m through with you, I’ll slaughter Gwen as well. No one who supports Camelot or the Pendragon name is safe. I will take over the kingdom and rule it as it should be ruled. I warn you not because I care, but because a lot of lives will be spared if you surrender. I am not cruel, and I am not evil. I wish to spare those who would otherwise be stuck in the middle of a war. You have four days to make a decision. When you do, meet me here in Ealdor.”

“Merlin, _no_ -” Gwaine shouts, grabbing me by the neckerchief. “You can’t be serious! I _know_ you; I _know_ you do not want war!”

With the aid of my magic, I aim a powered slap to Gwaine’s face, making him let go of my neckerchief, which I wrench off and toss at Percival’s face. “Show that to Arthur, so he knows it’s really me. No _go_.” I lift my foot up, turning and walking away. There is no movement behind me. “I said,” I growl, voice rising. “ _Go!_ ”

Percival jumps to his feet, backing up and looking to Gwaine. “Gwaine, it’s not safe for you with him...” He tries to persuade.

“I need to stay with him. I may be the only one who can help him.”

“Good luck with that,” I sneer, meeting Gwaine’s gaze. “I don’t need help.” I wait until Percival has begun to run towards Camelot before I move on.

Just because I don’t need help, does not mean I don’t feel the agonizing grief as I look to Mother’s body, which is still lying where I left it. Mary has approached her, kneeling beside Mother’s face to smooth the hair from her eyes.

“Don’t touch her!” I cry, running over to push the woman away from Mother before I hold the still body closely. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

“Merlin, _please_ ,” Mary sobs, looking at me pleadingly. “She was my best friend. I need to grieve, too.” After a long, hesitant moment, I nod slowly, releasing the body gently to place her back on the dirt. 

I don’t feel guilty for the people I killed. I don’t feel remorse for Arthur and Camelot. I don’t feel corrupted by the rage that has engulfed my soul. 

But I _do_ feel the tears rolling relentlessly down my face. And I _do_ feel the unbearably painful sorrow hitting me in waves. And I _do_ feel hatred growing and swelling inside of me for the person who is responsible for it all.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Percival_ **

I finally reach the village of Florin. I estimate the journey to have taken around two hours of hard running and short breaks to catch my breath.

Arthur and the other Knights have come to, and sit huddled back to back, tied to one another. Many of them are gagged, including the silently fuming king. I catch his hopeful and desperate eyes, and give a small shake of the head.

A woman runs up to me, and I try to conceal the worry and anger that is at war inside of me. “Where are the others?” She asks hastily, looking behind me to check for movement.

“They are staying in Ealdor to help the villagers,” I say the lie that I have been forming over the past couple hours.

“And the sorcerer?” An elderly man demands as he runs over to us.

“He’s dead.” I pretend that I did not see Arthur’s hope crumble. He’ll know the truth soon enough; and it will be much worse. “Now I demand that you let the King and the Knights go, and we will never speak of this again.”

The man looks like he is going to protest, but the woman gives him a slap to the arm. “Rolan, if we don’t then we’ll all be hung for treason. Release them _now_.” Rolan nods hurriedly, gathering more men and boys to cut the ropes away. “I’m so sorry,” the woman insists, and I’m surprised to find absolute truth in her eyes. “Everyone was so angry and desperate. I tried to talk my husband out of it, but nothing I said did any good...”

“I believe you,” I reply gruffly, leaving her without another word to join my king. “Arthur, we need to get out of here.”

“Right...We need to go to Ealdor...” Arthur replies, looking out towards where the distant village lies.

“No, Arthur, we need to get back to Camelot,” I press in a quiet voice, trying to make sure that the Florin villagers do not hear.

“Percival, Hunith must be _devastated_...And I have to make sure that she knows that I didn’t cause this.”

“Arthur,” I whisper regretfully. “Hunith is dead.”

The King’s eyes grow wide in shock and remorse. “No...No, this was never meant to happen! And...It _is_ my fault, isn’t it? It’s my fault that Merlin is _dead_ -” I interrupt him with a small shake of the head.

“We can’t speak of this here; we have to get back to Camelot.”

* * *

**_Gwaine_ **

We left Ealdor an hour ago, after Merlin and Mary carefully buried Hunith in her garden. Merlin created beautiful flowers to cover the grave, and Mary placed stones all around it. I had stood at a distance and watched, not wanting to anger Merlin further by getting any closer.

I had hoped that the tears rolling down Merlin’s cheeks meant that he had come back to himself, and this nightmare would be over. But he soon regained his composure and told me it was time to leave.

“Merlin, where are we going?” I ask for the hundredth time, hurrying my horse after my friend’s. Friend - can I still consider Merlin that? Is he really still my friend? I’m not sure who is in his body, but I do know for a _fact_ that it is not the man who helped me all of those years ago.

This time Merlin pulls his horse to a halt before twisting in his saddle to fix me with a glare. “I do not require your accompaniment, Gwaine,” He says in a slow, calculated tone. “I would, however, wish for you to remain with me. But let me make something clear for you: if you are going to follow me, you will do so with unquestioning trust. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” I reply after a pause, trying to see beyond the darkness in Merlin’s eyes.

“Good,” he responds with a little smirk before kicking his horse back into a canter.

* * *

**_Arthur_ **

When we reach Camelot, we are all exhausted. But anxious curiosity has been burning inside of me ever since I talked to Percival in Florin, so I gather him, Elyan, Leon, Gwen, and Gaius in my chambers to discuss the matter.

Once the door has been locked and Gwen and Gaius have been updated as far as I could tell, I turn to Percival. “Now, what happened after that?”

He sighs, rubbing a hand across his face as he slumps in his chair at my table. “I went with the villagers of Florin and traitorous knights to Ealdor, hoping I could help Merlin get out before he got himself killed...I don’t know exactly what happened, but I saw him run out from hiding as the others were questioning the people of Ealdor. Before I could get to Merlin Sir. Geredick was on top of him, and then Merlin sent him flying back. Everyone was at a standstill, then. Until...Until Asher tried the hit Merlin with an arrow from behind -”

Gwen bursts into tears, seeking comfort in Gaius’s arms. The old man’s face is blank in shock. Or maybe it’s cold fury - either would make sense right now. Leon and Elyan stand in silence, listening with their eyes fixed on the floor. I lean against my bed frame, eyes fixed on Percival’s and heart beating hastily in my chest.

“Out of nowhere, Hunith jumped between the arrow and Merlin’s back. There was no time; it hit her in the heart before I had even realized what had happened.”

“Goodness...No...” Gwen whispers, shaking her head in horror, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“And then utter chaos, everywhere. It was like something inside of Merlin just...broke...He fell to the ground and started screaming, and everyone was sent flying back and I got knocked out.”

“It sounds like Morgana,” Leon says quietly.

“No,” I insist, shaking my head vehemently. “No, Merlin is nothing like Morgana. He is a good man with a good heart. He would never hurt anybody on purpose. He was in shock, he must not have been thinking straight.”

“If only you had been thinking like that before you sentenced him to death, none of this would have happened,” Gwen challenges, her eyes piercing mine. I tear mine away from hers, fixing them instead on an imperfection in the floor.

“Arthur, if only you had _seen_ it...He was horrible. When I woke up, Merlin was standing over me, and his eyes seemed _dead_. He treated me like an enemy, and called you a coward and said all of it was your fault. And he gave me a message for you.” 

* * *

**_Merlin_ **

I don’t hesitate before I blast the doors open to the castle where Morgana is currently residing. It was not hard to find her. With a simple locating spell, I could feel the exact location where her magic pulsates, calling to me like a dark monster.

Guards run to stop me, but I mindlessly push them away with magic, not needing a verbal spell. The rundown castle is echoing with cries and warnings, but I pay them no heed as I make my way to the throne room, Gwaine trailing behind me with an irritating amount of uncertainty.

The throne room doors blast inward before me, revealing Morgana, who is rising from her throne in surprise. I give her a malicious smile, keeping to my brisk pace.

She cackles, reclining lazily back into her throne. “Merlin, have my guards honestly sounded the warning bell because of _you_? Or are you merely the distraction?” She smirks, nodding to two guards who flank either side of the room.

“ _Broo hnecca_ ,” I say, not even looking to the two men who are running for me with swords drawn. There is a loud snapping sound as their heads are forced to the side, breaking their necks before they even land on the ground.

“Merlin!” Gwaine’s shocked shout echoes through the room, and I pull my arm away before he can grab it.

Morgana’s eyes are wide, and yes, I realize with a smirk; she _is_ cowering in her stone throne. “Emrys,” She whispers, shaking.

“Morgana,” I reply icily, striding forward. I raise my hand, and the witch flinches back, eyes closed in anticipation.

But the doors to the throne room merely slam closed, sending dust and dirt fluttering off the ground.

Morgana slowly opens her eyes, trying to regain her composure. “All this time it was _you_? You’ve been the one protecting Arthur and helping him kill our kind -”

“Not anymore,” I cut her off. “Arthur is responsible for the death of my mother, and he tried to have to me killed, as well. I see clearly now, Morgana, and I want you to join me in taking Camelot.”

She just stares at me for a long moment, eyes wide and confused, as if she’s trying to figure me out. “How do I know I can trust you?” She asks at last.

“You know you can,” I reply, walking to stand directly in front of her throne. “Because you’re magic knows, doesn’t it? Our destinies are linked.”

“Yes, and they say you are to be my doom.”

“And mine says I’m going to protect Arthur. If I can change mine, we can change ours.”

* * *

**_Arthur_ **

“...’You have four days to make a decision. When you do, meet me here in Ealdor.’” Percival finishes relaying the message, and my mind is buzzing. _Merlin_ said all of that? It doesn’t seem possible.

“Gaius,” I say softly, not looking up. “You know Merlin better than anyone. You’ve known about his magic ever since he came, as you’ve admitted to me the other day. Is this really him?”

“I...” Gaius hesitates. “I do know that possessing magic, especially at such a high level as Merlin’s, can...fuel anger in a powerful way. But I never imagined that _Merlin_ could ever become like this. I’ve seen him go through horrific things over the years because of his power, and every time he has lost a little of the innocence he once had.”

“So he really is evil, now?” Elyan asks helplessly.

“ _No_ ,” I protest, looking up at last. “I refuse to believe that. Merlin is my best friend - he always has been. I was an utter _fool_ to sentence him to death. There has to be some way that we can fix this.”


	13. Chapter 13

**_Morgana_ **

Merlin’s words take me by surprise yet again. How is any of this even possible? Merlin as Emrys, using magic against Arthur and everything he has stood for in the past? But Merlin was right when he said I knew he was telling the truth. I’ve always felt some sort of connection with him. When I was Uther’s innocent ward, I thought it was a sort of brother-sister bond. When I came to my senses and tried to gain control of Camelot, I thought it was pure hatred.

Now...Now I don’t know _what_ I’m supposed to think as I calculate the man in front of me. If he is speaking the truth - which I am somehow sure he is - then our magic can feel the other’s. And yes, that must be what it is. The spot deep in my chest that I’ve recognized as the center of my magic seems to be aching to reach the power that I now know Merlin possesses. It’s some strange, fiery need that is making it harder to think properly. Merlin has been my enemy for years - he _poisoned_ me! How could I ever believe that we should join together to overthrow Camelot?

But once again, there is the truth, staring at me with Merlin’s cold, dark eyes. It makes something in my stomach flutter anxiously.

“If we are to join together to overthrow Camelot and kill Arthur,” I begin in a calculated tone. “Then we are agreed that we will not turn against each other?”

“If I wanted you dead I would have killed you by now,” The warlock replies evenly.

I hide the fear that threatens to break my mask of indifference. “Very well. But when we overthrow Arthur I take the throne of Camelot as my own.”

“Don’t forget who is in charge here, Morgana,” Merlin sneers. The expression seems alien on his face. I suppose I have to get used to a _lot_ of new things about him. “I’m more powerful than you are.”

I rise slowly, straightening my spine to stand at my fullest height. “You said we would be working together, not that _I_ would be working for _you_.”

“Exactly. That is why we will share Camelot - at least to begin with. When we conquer the surrounding kingdoms I will take those and leave Camelot to you. We can even become rivals once again, if it so pleases you. Although I do not think that will be the best course of action for you to take.”

“You think you can beat me, Merlin, but I have something you do not! Aithusa!” I call for the dragon, and watch eagerly as she slowly emerges from the adjacent room, eyes wide.

Merlin laughs. Right there in front of me, he just grins and shakes his head. “Cute,” he snickers. “Aithusa, confn ekess ve!” To my utter shock, Aithusa obediently walks to Merlin’s outstretched hand, even letting the man stroke her on the head!

“What -?” I gasp, looking on with wide eyes.

Merlin looks up from the dragon to meet my eyes once again. “Did I forget to mention that I am the last dragonlord? Well, I haven’t had much time to bring it up. Every time I’ve seen you I’ve been trying to hide my true identity. Now is different, though. Now we want the same thing.”

“Arthur dead,” I finish with a nod, grudgingly accepting the fact that I have no choice but to trust the warlock before me.

“Then we can bring magic back to power. We will be revered and feared. Nothing will stop us -”

“Merlin, _stop this_!” The Knight - Gwaine, I think - interrupts, taking a step forward. “You can’t be serious about all of this!”

“Arthur was going to execute me! He sent soldiers after us and innocent people in my village were killed! My own _mother_ was murdered and you think that I’m not serious?” Merlin bellows, making me jump. He turns his fiery gaze to Gwaine, crossing the space between them quickly before wrapping a wiry hand around his throat.

I can see the panic in the Knight’s eyes as he grips Merlin’s forearm, trying to make him let go. “Merlin, get off of me,” Gwaine says in a low, threatening voice, almost completely hiding the quiver of fear. “You’re sick or something -” His voice is cut off as he gasps for air due to Merlin’s squeezing.

The Knight’s hand leaves Merlin’s arm to shove him roughly in the chest, forcing the small man away from him. Gwaine takes in a long, greedy gulp of air, eying Merlin warily.

“You still don’t realize the power you’re dealing with here, Gwaine,” Merlin growls, brow furrowing in a fierce glare.

“I think I do,” Gwaine spits back, rubbing his neck gingerly. “You burnt a village to the ground, killed over a dozen innocent villagers and Camelot knights, and now you’re making plans to join this _witch_ to kill Arthur! He’s been your best friend for _years_ , Merlin! How can you just forget that?”

“Forget it?” Merlin asks incredulously, voice teetering on its old mannerisms. “I haven’t _forgotten_ anything, Gwaine. Arthur destroyed the friendship he had when he planned to have me executed.”

* * *

 

**_Arthur_ **

“Arthur...What are you going to do?” Gwen’s voice breaks the silence of the bedchamber. She has been lying in bed for half an hour, but I know she hasn’t slept. I haven’t moved from my chair beside the fire for who knows how long.

I shake my head. “I don’t know, Gwen...I don’t see what I _can_ do. I mean if Merlin really is...evil, then what chance do I stand against him?”

I hear the rustle of sheets and Gwen’s nightdress as she leaves the warm bed to join me. She kneels beside my chair, placing a comforting palm against my hand. I look down to meet her eyes, and am sure she can see the tears I’m holding back.

“We’ll think of something, Arthur,” She whispers, swiping away the tear that has made it on my cheek with her thumb.

“I just feel so _helpless_. I know I can’t kill him, but I can’t think of any other possibility. I mean, would he really stop to listen if I tried to talk him out of it?”

“No, you can’t kill him, Arthur. That’s what got us in this mess to begin with.” I do not miss the sharp edge in Gwen’s words, and I flinch.

  
“I know that this is all my fault, and gods, I’m so sorry for it. I always called Merlin the idiot, but it’s really the other way around. I would give anything to go back and just _think things through_ , but I can’t. And now my kingdom, my wife, and my own life are in danger and I just _don’t know what to do_.” The tears have come freely, now, but I make no attempt to stop them. “Gwen...What am I going to do?”


	14. Chapter 14

_**Merlin** _

I let loose a loud, frustrated shout as I send the stack of books off of the wooden table I've been sitting at for the last several hours. I scoured Morgana's library of magic books, performed countless location spells, and even tried magical meditation, but nothing has worked. I still cannot find anything pointing to what I need.

The large library door creaks open slowly, and I turn to see who dares to interrupt me. Gwaine looks at me warily.

"You need sleep," is all he says.

"I'm not tired," I reply irritatedly.

"Even sorcerers get tired, and you've been up for hours."

"I said I'm not tired."

"Some rest would do you good -"

"Just let me be, would you?" I snap, turning back to the books, ready to look through them again in case I overlooked some information - though I know I was utterly thorough.

"What are you looking for, Merlin? What more could you possibly need? You've already got the upper hand!"

"I need what was taken from me, Gwaine. I want my mother back! Is that such a crazy thing?"

I feel the Knight's hand clasp my arm, and pull away instinctively. I don't want him to touch me - no one can touch me. If people can reach me, they can hurt me.

"You can't bring back the dead, mate..." He whispers. "I know it hurts, I do. I lost both of my parents long ago -"

"Shut up," I snarl, turning and giving him a hard slap to the face. Gwaine staggers back, looking up at me with wide, sad eyes. "Don't act as if you understand me! Don't pretend that you can make things better!"

"You couldn't find anything, could you?"

"What?"

Gwaine sighs, shaking his head. "You've been in here for five hours, Merlin. And in all that time you haven't found anything that can bring your mother back."

" _Merlin!_ " My eyes grow wide as I hear the bellowing, furious voice in my mind. _Of course_ , I should have thought to summon Kilgharrah long ago! _"Merlin!_ "

I begin to laugh, and Gwaine looks downright terrified for a moment. "Excuse me," I say briskly before pushing past him and running outside to the old training fields of the castle. The Great Dragon stands there, huge and fixing me with a look of pure anger.

"Merlin," Kilgharrah growls. "I can sense the darkness inside of you! I have seen Arthur from afar and could feel his anguish, I went to Ealdor and it is in disarray, and now I come here to see that you have joined forces with the witch Morgana and have turned towards darkness! I demand to know why!"

"All that destiny garbage you tried to make me believe was all a fake - Arthur was going to have me _executed_ because he found out about my magic, and when I ran to Ealdor he sent men after me. My mother jumped in front of an arrow that was intended for me, and she died in my arms! So yes, if coming to my senses is what you call 'darkness', then that is what I have become. You have been wrong all of these years and I didn't know it until just a few days ago. Arthur will never reunite magic to the kingdom - Albion will never be formed! He is a cowardly fool who needs to be eradicated. He has two and a half days left to surrender his life or else Morgana and I will attack Camelot with no mercy!"

" _No_!" Kilgharrah roars. "Young warlock, you are young and unwise! You have already killed twenty three innocent people; do not make that list longer!"

"No one is innocent, much less a tyrant like Arthur," I retort angrily.

"Tyrant is what we called Uther in his time - Arthur has proven that he is different -"

"Arthur is no different than his father! It has taken me this long to realize it, but I do now. The world will be a better place without a Pendragon on the throne!"

"And yet you will help Morgana Pendragon reach power?" Kilgharrah demands.

" _Ábeþecian_ _Morgana Pendragon_ ," I whisper, searching to see if I can locate Morgana's presence listening in on the conversation. I see her, asleep and having a nightmare in her chambers. I give a small grin before turning back to Kilgharrah. "Morgana is simply another tool in a greater plan. She stands no chance against Emrys. I will dispose of her once I have Camelot in my hands."

"Using others to get what one wants is a sign of wickedness, warlock," Kilgharrah warns coldly.

"Call me wicked, then," I sneer. "I don't care what you think. All I need is your help."

" _I will not help you in the downfall of Camelot!_ " The Dragon roars. I can sense the fire he is holding back, but I don't so much as flinch.

"I know that," I reply calmly. "I don't need your help to overthrow Arthur - I have everything I need already. I need information from you; information on how to bring back the dead."

"That cannot be done, Merlin. The world of the dead is beyond the power of magic -"

"Nimueh did it," I cut in crisply.

"Nimueh spent half of her life and then beyond to master her powers. Only the highest of High Priestesses can control such magic."

"Morgana is a High Priestess."

"She is an amateur, nothing more! She has at _least_ thirty years of painstakingly difficult training to complete before she could ever _begin_ to match the powers of a senior High Priestess!"

"But she brought Lancelot back!" I shout desperately.

"What Morgana brought back was a mere _shadow_ of who Sir Lancelot once was! He was more of a body than a soul, holding only enough memories so as not to be caught right away!"

"Surely there must be _something_ I can do to bring my mother back?" I beg, taking a step toward the dragon.

"There is no way I can help you, Merlin. I am sorry about your mother, but the road you are on is long and dangerous! Only more of the people you love will perish because of this darkness within you!"

"I _command_ you to tell me a way to fully bring back my mother!"

"You can manipulate your Dragonlord powers over me all you want, warlock, but there is no way to fully bring back your mother."

"I'll burn Arthur alive!" I scream, and a patch of grass nearby bursts into flames. "No, wait. I'll burn Guinevere first, and he'll have to watch as she screams and cries. Arthur will beg for mercy, but I'll just kill him the same way for all of Camelot to see!"

" _Warlock_!" Kilgharrah bellows. "I will not allow you to do this!"

I look the dragon square in the eyes and point my palm at him. "I _command_ you to never interfere with my plans against Arthur and Camelot!"

"You _cannot_ do this, Merlin!" Kilgharrah screeches, rising on his hind legs in fury. "I will not let you be consumed this evil!"

"You are powerless to stop me, just like you have always been powerless to help me. Now _go_."

Kilgharrah gives one last furious roar, trying to fight against my power. He loses, and turns to fly away, creating a huge breeze as his wings hit the air.

* * *

_**Gwaine** _

I dart into the open doorway next to me to avoid Merlin as he storms back into the castle; he would surely kill me without a second's thought if he knew I had been listening to the entire conversation between him and that dragon.

So he can't bring his mother back, then...I can't help but think that may be worse than if he could. And he doesn't really want Morgana around, but is just using her. Why even bother with her, though? It is clear that he does not need her help in order to take Camelot. Is it because she also has magic, or maybe because they used to be friends? I can't figure out any of Merlin's motives, now.

And what do _I_ do with all of this information? Do I tell Morgana about Merlin's _real_ plans for her? _No_ , I can't do that. If Merlin finds out that I listened in and told Morgana about it he'd instantly kill me, and then I would be no help to anyone.

Should I run to Camelot and inform Arthur of what I know? But what _do_ I know? Not much, it seems. Definitely not enough to justify risking my life to tell Arthur. What good would it do if I fled to give them useless information?

No, I can't do anything right now but wait and try to put together more information. If I can live long enough to get it...


	15. Chapter 15

**_Morgana_ **

I walk briskly through the hall on my way from my chambers to the throne room. Even though my mind is not concentrated on my destination, my feet don’t lead me astray. I’ve been in this castle for a whole year, now, so how could I forget such an easy route?

My mind is buzzing furiously, trying to make sense of the current circumstances; trying to figure out what to do.

Half an hour ago I awoke from another awful nightmare about Emrys, although now his eyes that seemed so hauntingly familiar are even more terrifying. Merlin killed me before I had even finished begging for my life. A shudder runs through me at the memory.

I push the throne room doors open distractedly, and stop dead in my tracks at the sight before me: Merlin is sitting agitatedly in _my_ throne. Mixed feelings of rage and terror rush through me, but I do my best to keep the latter off of my face.

“Get out of my throne,” I say, cursing myself when I detect the tremor in my voice.

“And here I thought we were going to rule _equally_?” Merlin sneers distractedly, not even looking up at me.

“That is _my_ throne! Now get up!” I shout, trying to scare him. It would work with anyone else.

“Do you feel it, too?” Is his unexpected response.

“Feel _what_?” I snap, still not daring to move a step closer. 

Merlin looks up at last to meet my gaze, and I’m utterly surprised to see that his eyes are glistening and there are tears tracks running down his face. “This emptiness. It’s everywhere, but I can’t get rid of it.”

“Of course not - I have everything I need here in this castle and Camelot will soon be mine.”

Merlin shakes his head, rising from my throne at last and walking over to me. “You don’t have everything you _want_ , though, and that’s different.”

“Yes, well, everything I cared about was taken from me, if you can recall.”

“I used to have so much, and yet I always wanted _more_. I wanted Arthur to accept my magic, I just didn’t want to hide it anymore...And now I have nothing, and looking back I see I took all of that for granted.”

“The important thing is getting revenge for what has been done to you. Your old live is gone. You’ve been wronged by those people and they need to pay for it with their lives!”

“Is that what Morgause taught you?”

“Don’t you dare mention her name,” I spit. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that _you_ are the one who took her from me!”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispers, looking down at his boots.

“What?” I snap.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve hurt you, Morgana. I know now that I was fighting on the wrong side all along. I know how it feels to lose your family -”

“It’s too late now, Merlin,” I reply, jaw locked as I fight the tears that want to come. “You can’t make up for what you did. You’ve hurt me more than anyone else.”

I jump at the unexpected feel of Merlin’s hand as he takes mine. “I...I don’t want to be alone, Morgana. Surely you must understand that?”

“Yes,” I admit softly.

“We’ve both made mistakes, and we’ve both paid for them. We’re stronger together, don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” I agree after a short pause. 

“Then we need to be strong together.”

I suddenly realize how close we are right now, and I do my best to suppress a blush as I take a small step back. Me blushing? That isn’t like me, not anymore. And yet I find myself struggling to hide it. It’s been years since I’ve been courted by a man, back when I was Uther’s ward, and I must admit that I do miss it. I used to be the envy of all the other court ladies at balls and feasts, because the visiting noblemen would always come to me. It never really meant much, the giggling kisses shared in hallway alcoves with men I didn’t really know. They would be gone the next day, anyway; off to their own kingdoms.

And then Merlin does something utterly unexpected. He bridges the gap between us and before I know it our lips are locked. I want to slap myself even as I kiss back, stomach pounding when Merlin presses forward even as his hand is snaking around my waist and pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. 

A strange, powerful, and demanding feeling comes over me, as if the magic inside of me is trying to link with that of the man in front of me. I begin to feel lightheaded as the possessive energy grows between us, and I know in that moment that Merlin feels it, too. Our combined power rises, seemingly swelling around us -

“Stop,” I gasp, pulling breathlessly from the kiss as I recognize the fact that Merlin has gotten rougher, forcing our bodies closer. Suddenly I realize my right leg is wrapped around Merlin’s left, and I hastily pull it off. When did I do that? _Why_ did I do that? Merlin doesn’t seem to have heard me at all, because he tries to kiss me again. “Merlin, stop it,” I say more forcefully, trying to push him away. “Get off!” In response to my shout, my magic comes to protect me, slamming Merlin in the chest and forcing him away with a grunt.

The ex-servant looks at me, but his expression has turned to one of shock. There is dead silence between us. Looking at Merlin now, I swear I can see the old awkward friend he once was. 

“I thought...” He stutters, looking at me with huge eyes.

“Excuse me,” I whisper, turning on my heel and forcing myself not to run as I exit the throne room. But part of me wants to turn around and let our magic drive us forward. _Just imagine how much more powerful you would both be if you had that kind of relationship._  

 _But no_ , I decide with finality. _No, Merlin is a tool, nothing more. Just because he snogged me does not mean he won’t still be my doom. Don’t give into the enemy..._

* * *

 ** _Merlin_**  

The doors slam behind Morgana as she hurries away. I hope it was enough, because I’ll only go so far to strengthen the alliance between us. She has to think that I care for her. She has to be convinced that I am devoted to her, or she will continue to doubt me, and I cannot afford that.

No, I need Morgana at my fingertips. I need her to trust and care for me. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Well, Gwaine is my only friend now, and he’s already here with me - oblivious as he needs to be. 

And Morgana is getting to the right point, I think. It will be so much easier if I have her allegiance before I take over Camelot. The last thing I need is her pathetically trying to turn against me. 

I had been hoping to regain my composure a bit more before she entered the throne room - I came dangerously close to dropping the mask I had been planning.

  
I can’t let her know that I _do_ truly feel empty and alone.

* * *

**_Arthur_ **

“Sire?” Leon’s voice breaks me out of my referee.

“What?” I reply quickly, looking up from the dent in the middle of the Round Table from the chandelier father broke just a few days ago. Has it really been only a matter of days?

“You need to make a decision now, Sire,” Leon says gently. “We cannot afford to wait any longer.”

“Right, of course…” I sigh, pressing my palms against my pounding forehead. “Could it wait until tonight?”

“I’m sorry, Sire, but no. The deadline is the day after tomorrow and the decision has already been postponed too much.”

“I…I can’t decide now. I need more time,” I look back down at the table.

“I have a feeling that you already know your decision, Arthur,” Gwen remarks, taking my hand in both of hers. “You have to do whatever you believe to be best.”

“That didn’t work very well last time,” I protest with a sigh.

“I believe in you, Arthur, and trust your decision, whatever it may be.”

I nod slowly before speaking. “I will go to meet Merlin in Ealdor like he demanded…We will prepare for battle if it comes to that…But you are _not_ to strike until – un _less_ I give the signal. My first priority needs to be the protection of Camelot.”

Everyone at the table is nodding in agreement with faces of solemnity. Everyone but one. I have to look away quickly. I can’t take the heartbroken expression on Gaius’ face.


	16. Chapter 16

**_Merlin_ **

I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was too busy trying to come up with solutions to my problems and shake away the angry voice of Kilgharrah. The sun had just reached its full height in the sky when it came to me.

I now walk to Gwaine’s small quarters hesitantly, still unsure of my decision. _But it’s the only way_...Shaking my head in an attempt to dislodge the doubt, I knock on the door with finality.

I hear movement from inside instantly, soon followed by the door opening slowly. When Gwaine sees me, he reluctantly opens the door fully.

“Merlin,” he greets simply.

“Gwaine, I need you to do something for me,” I reply, inviting myself into the room and closing the door behind me.

“What is it?” Gwaine asks, obviously trying to keep a blank face.

“I need you to go to Camelot and talk to Arthur.”

“What? Are you changing your mind?” Gwaine asks hopefully.

“No, I’m not,” I growl. Gwaine’s face falls, hopes crushed. I know he thinks he needs to save me or something, and that is why he has stayed. But not the _only_ reason - Gwaine is my friend. He cares about me, and he helped me escape Camelot. He’ll help me now, I’m sure of it. He won’t ever betray me. “What I need is for you to instruct Arthur to bring the horn of Cathbhadh with him to Ealdor.”

“ _What_?” Gwaine asks incredulously. “Merlin, that horn is what started this whole mess to begin with! Surely you aren’t so stupid as to make the same mistake -”

“-It’s the only way I can get my mother back!” I protest.

“A shadow of your mother, nothing more! You said yourself that the Uther that came back was not his whole spirit, that there was something darker inside of him!”

“I could have been wrong - Uther was a tyrant!”

“You aren’t supposed to be able to bring someone back from the dead!”

“I can’t accept that, Gwaine! I can’t just let my mother be dead. Don’t you understand that? Don’t you understand that I need to kill Arthur to avenge her?”

Gwaine takes a deep breath before answering. “I’ve been growing to realize that revenge isn’t everything, Merlin. And none of this adds up; after all, why would _Arthur_ of all people attack Ealdor? It wasn’t an organized strike! It was the attack of a cowardly fool. Even if you do believe that Arthur would go after you, you can’t _possibly_ think that the evidence we have points to him, can you? Arthur would never have killed those innocent people there, and he certainly would not have sent his knights on without their king! And to let a large group of unqualified townspeople fight? It just doesn’t add up.”

I stare at Gwaine in silence, trying to tell myself that he is wrong, that he is just lying to protect his king. But no, Gwaine serves _me_ now, and that is why he has stayed with me all this time. He’s just wrong, that’s all he is. He can’t see the truth for what it really is.

“I need you to tell Arthur to bring the horn of Cathbhadh with him to Ealdor.”

“Why do you need it so soon? Why can’t you just wait until you have Camelot and use it then?” Gwaine finally asks, dropping his failed attempt at changing my mind.

“I can’t take the chance of time, Gwaine. He might have already done something with it - hidden it or destroyed it. I need to negotiate for it _now_.”

“You’re being paranoid, Merlin -” I shake my head, and Gwaine lets his sentence fall into silence. “Why would he bring it to Ealdor, Merlin? Why would he let you make the same mistake he did?”

“Tell him that I’ll let Guinevere live if he gives it to me. I’ll send her off peacefully with enough gold to sustain her. She can walk free and unharmed.”

The knight looks to me in surprise, and I swear I can see a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Even if I have the fastest horse I cannot make it to Camelot in time to meet the deadline tomorrow evening. He’ll have already set out for Ealdor before I can reach him.”

“I have faster methods than horses, Gwaine,” I reply evenly. “I’ve grown stronger since I’ve claimed my full potential. All I need to do is say a spell and you’ll be in the castle courtyard.”

“Why didn’t you do that to escape Ealdor earlier?” Gwaine demands, voice rising.

I falter a moment before answering quietly. “I can’t transport that many people at once. I don’t know that I could have even sent away one at that point.”

He nods slowly, taking a deep breath. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

* * *

 ** _Gwaine_**  

My mind is buzzing as I follow Merlin towards the castle courtyard. So am I just going to drop into the castle, find Arthur and...Say _what_ , exactly? ‘Hey, Princess, Merlin sent me. As you know, he’s taken a definite turn for the worse and wants you dead. Oh yeah, and he wants the horn of Cathbhadh so he can repeat the mess you started.’ Yeah, very likely. I’m doomed.

“You,” Merlin addresses a guard standing outside of the throne room. The man’s eyes grow wide at the warlock’s tone, most likely afraid that Merlin might lose his temper and kill him.

“Yes sir?” He asks respectfully, inclining his head.

“Follow us,” is Merlin’s only reply. I share an uncertain glance with the guard as we follow Merlin the rest of the way to the courtyard.

“Gwaine, stand over there,” Merlin orders simply, pointing to a spot on the stone floor. I obey quietly, trying to get a grasp on my bearings and prepare to be teleported. “Come here,” Merlin snaps at the guard, beckoning him forward.

“Yes sir,” the man says respectfully, and to his credit he is able to keep a semi-neutral expression when Merlin reaches for his sword and pulls it from the guard’s scabbard.

“Merlin, what are you doing?” I ask hastily, taking a step forward.

“No, stay there,” Merlin orders, not even looking at me. He grabs the guard’s arm, pulling him closer to me, stopping a few feet away. It takes me completely by surprise when Merlin drags the sword against the man’s arm, enough to create a good flow of blood without causing him serious injury. 

The guard bites back a cry of pain and protest, no doubt afraid to anger Merlin further. I, however, am not so silent.

“Merlin! What in the bloody world was that for?” I demand, but still stand my ground.

“Blood is part of the spell,” Merlin says boredly, squeezing around the man’s cut to let the blood droplets hit the stone in front of me.

“Then you should have used mine!”

“Why would anyone injure their messenger? Besides, Gwaine, I don’t wish to harm you. You’re my friend.”

I bite back my retort of claiming otherwise. _Don’t tell him that, he won’t confide in you then. He would probably kill you if he knew all the things you’ve been thinking about him._

When Merlin seems to have finished with the guard’s blood he lets go of his arm, ushering him away. The man wastes no time in escaping. Unperturbed by the quick exit, Merlin stretches his open palms out to me. “ _Ásendan eftforgiefnes æt Camelot burg_!”  
  
I only have a fleeting moment to process the increasingly uncomfortable feeling in my gut as the world begins to swirl around me, squeezing my chest and making it hard to breathe, before everything goes black.


	17. Chapter 17

**_Gwaine_ **

On a scale of one to ten, I’d say the pain of colliding with the cobblestone floor of the Camelot courtyard is a solid eight. Groaning in complaint, I roll onto my back, contemplating how much worse the fall would have been if I had landed on my face instead of my side. _Small victories_...

Surprised shouts utter around me, and hands grip my shoulders to help me onto my feet. I blink my eyes hurriedly, averting my gaze from the far-too-bright sun.

“Bloody sunshine, don’t you know I’ve been shut up inside a dark castle...” I mutter under my breath, more for my benefit than for those around me.

“ _Gwaine_?” I familiar voice shouts in astonishment. I whip my head up to see Percival running over to me, and close the distance between us to give him a long overdue embrace. He pulls away, gripping me by the shoulders. “How long have you been traveling? And how did you get away? You look like you’ve been to hell and back.”

“Ha,” I laugh half-heartedly. “Close. Merlin teleported me here - which was bloody awful - where’s Arthur? I need to talk to him _now_.”

“He _what_? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, considering all that’s happened...Arthur’s on the training field; I was just heading there, myself. Doubt we would have gotten much done anyway. Let’s go.”

We run the rest of the way, where the Knights of the Round Table are preparing for training. Arthur is pacing beside Elyan and Leon, who are already in their armor. 

“Where is Percival?” I hear the king demand exasperatedly, grabbing a fistful of his hair, proving how stressed he must be. “We were supposed to start five minutes ago!”

“Here, Princess!” I call as I get closer. Arthur’s, Leon’s, and Elyan’s heads all snap around in my direction with matching faces of surprise.

“Thank goodness you’re alright!” Elyan shouts in relief, running over to slap me on the back. Leon runs over as well, gripping my arm in greeting. Arthur has not moved, simply standing there with an unreadable expression.

I look back at him steadily. “I have a message from Merlin.”

“So you _are_ working for him, then?” Arthur demands, hand ready to reach for his sword.

“I went with him when _you_ condemned him to death. And then when his mother was killed he changed, like something inside of him shattered. It was terrifying; as I’m sure Percival has told you.”

“So why did you stay with him, then? Why would you help him after he has killed so many?” Arthur takes a step forward, and I can see the way he is trying to control his emotions. 

“I had to try to make him see sense!” I shout, looking to Arthur pleadingly. “I hoped I could change him back to how he was! But...But he just got worse and worse...Killing and hurting people without remorse. At that point I just had to try to stay on his good side so he wouldn’t kill me, too. He may have, except that he seems to feel like I’m all he’s got left. The most he’s done to me is slap me around a bit.”

“So he won’t see sense?” Arthur presses, dropping his hand from his sword. “You’ve tried everything? There’s nothing to be done?” The hope in the King’s voice hurts, and I have to pause before answering.

“...No. No, I don’t think so. He’s so far off the edge...You have no idea...Over the past couple days all he’s done is shout at people and pour over all the magic books in Morgana’s library -”

“ _Morgana_?” Leon interrupts incredulously. “He’s joined forces with Morgana?”

I shake my head at the knight. “No, he’s _using_ Morgana. He’s apparently led her on, making her believe that he cares for her and that he’ll give her a kingdom of her own once they take over Camelot. According to what I overheard him saying to the dragon, though, he’s just going to dispose of her once he has what he wants.”

“Dragon?” Arthur’s eyes have grown wide at the thought of the new threat. “What dragon?”

“His name is Kilgharrah,” I reply. “And don’t worry: he’s refused to help. Merlin forbade him to interfere, though, so he won’t be any use to us, either.”

“But how did _Merlin_ get control over a _dragon_?” Arthur demands, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Merlin isn’t just a warlock, Arthur,” I say slowly. “He’s Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. He’s also the last Dragonlord, so no dragon can go against his orders. Don’t you _see_ , Arthur? There’s nothing more powerful than him, which means there’s no way we can win this!”

The King rubs his forehead vigorously with the palm of his hands, evidently warding off a headache. There’s a long pause before anyone says anything.

“What’s the message, Gwaine?” Leon asks tentatively. 

“Merlin wants you to bring the horn of Cathbhadh with you to Ealdor,” I respond, looking for Arthur’s reaction.

“ _What_?” He demands, looking up at me instantly. “Is he _mad_? Why would I ever do that?”

“What does he want with the horn?” Percival asks, shaking his head.

“He’s been spending hours looking for a way to bring his mother back, but he hasn’t found anything. He wanted to bring her back fully, but when he realized he couldn’t, he sent me here to get you to bring him the horn.” 

“He’s going to look back at her,” Arthur whispers, but loudly enough so we can hear. “He’s going to make the same mistake I did with my father.”

“He claimed he couldn’t take the chance of waiting, in case you tried to destroy the horn before he took Camelot.”

“He was right, then,” Arthur groans. “I was going to have it melted at the Smith right after training...I don’t want anyone else unleashing angry spirits.”

“So why would he think Arthur would just hand it over?” Elyan inquires.

I look Arthur square in the eyes. “He said he’ll let Gwen leave Camelot unharmed if you give it to him.”

Elyan gasps from beside me, and Arthur lets out a mixed sound of a half sob and deep groan of relief, covering his face with his hands as he slides down into a kneeling position. It’s as if a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders, only to be replaced by a lighter one. “Yes, then,” I hear him respond after a moment.

“No!” Gwen’s familiar voice takes us all by surprise as she quickly closes the gap between herself and Arthur. She seems to have come from the castle during the conversation without any of us noticing.

Arthur rises to meet her face to face. “My answer is yes, Gwen. If I can spare you, then I have no other choice!”

“And my answer is _no_ , Arthur. I get a say in this, too!" 

“No, you don’t,” Arthur insists, taking her by the shoulders. “If Merlin is giving me a chance to save you, then there is nothing that can make me let it go.”

“Arthur, he wants to unleash his mother’s spirit! How could you let him do that, after everything that happened with your father?” Gwen demands, pushing Arthur’s hands away. 

“Don’t you understand?” Arthur shouts back, throwing his hands up. “This is the first good thing that has come out of the mess I started! If I don’t give Merlin the horn of Cathbhadh, your blood is on _my_ hands!”  
  
“You can’t have known any of this would happen, Sire,” Leon interjects. “You were doing what you thought was right -” 

“I was being a coward!” Arthur argues, turning to the senior knight. “I got caught up in my emotions and let them rule over my head. This is the one chance I have to make something right, to save someone.”

“He’s right, Gwen,” Elyan pipes up, crossing to his sister. “We’re not going to let you die.”

“But -” Gwen starts to argue.

“But what damage could Merlin really do by bringing his mother’s spirit back?” Percival interjects. “She was a good woman; surely it couldn’t be _that_ bad.”

“It’s decided, then,” Arthur states, raising his hand to stop Gwen from arguing. “I will hand over the horn of Cathbhadh to Merlin tomorrow evening.”


	18. Chapter 18

**_Morgana_ **

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, absent-mindedly stroking Aithusa’s head as she slumbers beside me.

I can’t wrap my mind around it: Merlin actually _kissed_ me. He said he wants me to join him and end the battle we’ve been fighting against each other for years. And what is my response supposed to be?

I thought he was the enemy, not an ally. Of course that was before I knew the truth. But how could I ever trust him when I know he is proclaimed as my destiny and my doom? I’d basically be signing my own death sentence.

But I’ve also seen how he’s changed from the ignorant boy he once was. He’s grown stronger, smarter, and seems to have finally realized who the _real_ enemy is.

I can’t deny the fact that I enjoyed the kiss, and that the thought of allying with Merlin is thrilling. Just think of that - the two of us side by side, ruling Camelot together. An indestructible...What, king and queen? Do I really want my relationship to go _that_ far with Merlin? The thought is bizarre and alien.

And yet...It makes me feel little butterflies in my stomach, just like a love-sick child. When he kissed me, I felt drawn to him in a way that I’ve never felt before. A tug in my gut that urges me towards him, wants to be closer to him. Just think: all his power so close at hand, practically taunting me with possibilities. I’d be a fool to turn that down.

But how do I know that he is _really_ interested in me, that he feels the way I am now? Surely I can _make_ him feel that way, even if he doesn’t already. I haven’t charmed a man ever since I was Uther’s loving ward, but I know how it works... 

My thoughts are interrupted by two sharp knocks on my door. Aithusa instantly startles awake and goes to the door, looking at me expectantly as if waiting for me to open it. _It must be_ _Merlin, then, or she wouldn’t react like that_.

I try to gain my composure as I slowly get up off the bed, straightening my dress and trying to calm my pounding heart. It’s with shaking fingers that I open the door, revealing the warlock standing behind the wood.

“Merlin,” I acknowledge, pleased that my voice does not quiver. “What do you need?”

The ex-servant comes into the room, taking my hands in his. My heart thunders louder at the sign of affection. And the way he’s looking at me...No one has looked at me like that for years...

“It’s time to go to Ealdor,” He replies quietly. “You are still coming?” He sounds hopeful, and I find myself smiling in such a genuine way that I surprise myself.

“Yes, of course I’m coming,” I whisper. That fluttery feeling in my stomach adds to the pounding of my heart, and I surprise myself a bit as well as Merlin when I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him excitedly. The warlock stumbles back a pace, hitting the door and pushing it closed with a loud thud. He doesn’t seem to care, though, as he quickly recovers from his shock to kiss me back.

The energy from the last kiss is here again, and I flatten Merlin against the door as his hands rise to tangle in my hair. It all seems so strange, but my magic is thrumming inside my chest contentedly.

This time, though, it is Merlin who stops it, pushing me away gently by the shoulders and pausing the kiss. “We need to go.” He says softly, catching his breath.

“We have time,” I protest, resting my hands on his chest as I bit my lip, directing pouty eyes up at him through my lashes. He looks down at me, and I see a flash of conflict behind his blue eyes.

* * *

**_Merlin_ **

In this moment, I know I have her where I need her.

And suddenly it hits me that she has me, too.

I always knew there was something about her, but I’d always pushed it aside. It could never happen before, not for me. So I gave up and ignored whatever attractions I had after that.

But now she’s here, and I’m here, and for the first time in a long time we want the same thing. My magic knows it, and is thundering so loudly in my chest that it’s hard to catch my breath. From the shallow rising and falling of Morgana’s chest I can tell she feels the same way.

Flashes of a future come to mind: Morgana and I, together, ruling over Camelot together, having conquered the kingdom and killed Arthur and anyone else who tried to defy us. Magic reunited to the land, we could raise dragons from extinction, reunite Albion. Together.

It all seems so real already, and a mind numbing passion rises in my chest. I turn Morgana, switching places so that she is pressed against the door instead of me. Our lips meet unconsciously, and my fingers tangle in her hair again as hers wrap around my hips.  
  
And this feels right, and I wonder why we didn’t figure it out sooner. All thought leaves my mind as Morgana shifts against me, pulling me closer, making me gasp.

The whole world can be ours: with Mother...

The thought of Mother sends a pang of grief through my chest, and the adrenaline is gone in a rush. I pull away from Morgana, turning my back to her as I take deep breaths to calm myself. 

Morgana’s hand finds the crook of my arm and she peers at me, smile fading. “What?”

“We need to go,” Is all I say, shaking my head.

“But -” 

“ _No_ ,” I reply pointedly, meeting her gaze. I feel a little guilty as she shrinks back a little, but my thoughts are too jumbled to pay it too much thought. “I want to see my Mother.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is: the meeting in Ealdor. A lot is riding on this chapter for both sides! *Dramatic drum roll*

**_Morgana_ **

The people remaining in Ealdor ran and hide from us as we teleported into the small village. In the near distance I see what seems to be five freshly dug graves. No wonder they are terrified of Merlin: he killed five of their people. My presence must be another shock of fear for them. I smile a bit at the thought of that. Merlin and I striking terror into the hearts of the peasants we pass.

But he’s been sitting like this for the past 20 minutes, silently trembling before his Mother’s grave. What am I supposed to do? Most people would offer comfort in times like this, but I haven’t known how to do that for a long time. When you live like I have for so long you learn to look down on emotional weakness.

I think I’m supposed to care in this moment, perhaps cry, or offer words of encouragement? But Merlin is supposed to be above all of that now, isn’t he? After all, he left his old world behind, turned on his friends, and harnessed the power inside of himself so he can overthrow Arthur. His heart is cold, now, which is how it needs to be in order for him to claim the throne.

Right?

I want to kick myself for the confusion and doubt swarming in my head. I do _not_ think like this. I kill, and step over others in order to get where I need to go. And I don’t look back. I don’t feel guilt. I laugh at those I cut down, and put persecutors of magic in their rightful place. This world is not for the soft and weak.

I don’t want a hug, or kind words, or forgiveness. I want Arthur dead, and to be the queen of Camelot. I want to bring magic back to power and kill those who stand in my way. I’ve been hurt for too long, gone through too much, lost too many, and for what? No, it’s time things changed in _my_ favor for once. 

I’ve known that for years, now. But what I didn’t bargain for was Merlin being thrown into the mix.

Part of me knows I don’t need him. I’ve _never_ been weak; not even in the days before I turned against Uther. I’ve always fought for myself and have never accepted no as an answer. I don’t need _Merlin_ to be strong.

But I also haven’t succeeded in taking Camelot while Merlin has been against me, either. I know there can be no middle ground between him attacking me and him helping me attack others. _It’s never been that simple_.

Never simple when it comes to Merlin. Not when he was a mere servant and I the regal ward of Camelot. Not when he became influential in Camelot and I its greatest enemy. Not when he came to me, dark and powerful, while I ruled over my own small army. And not now that we stand together, teetering on sharing level ground.

I could not have loved him the way he once was. I was young and stupid and had no idea of my potential or of the terror that would be thrown my way.

But could I love him now? I do not want a relationship based only on attraction - those always crumble and fall. I’ve seen too many childhood friends marry for such things and rule their kingdoms forever hating their marriage decisions. There has to be _more_. I will not rule Camelot with him in fear that he will overthrow me.

I have lost Morgause, I have lost my home, I have lost my friendship with Gwen, and I have lost all the privileges I once had. He has lost his mother, his father, and I’m sure countless others that he has not mentioned to me. He has been condemned to death by his supposed best friend, forced to flee from Camelot, only to face greater lose outside the kingdom walls. 

We have seen death, known pain and grief. Both of us have hurt and killed others. And _he_ came to _me_. _He_ kissed _me_. _He_ promised _me_ a throne of Camelot. 

I turn at the sound of many distant hoof beats, and see Arthur leading a procession of knights towards the village. 

I kneel down next to Merlin, resting a hand on his shoulder. He jumps at the contact, and turns red rimmed eyes at me. I was too lost in my own thoughts to notice that he was crying. 

“Arthur is almost here. Get yourself together. You have an execution to carry out,” I say harshly. Merlin’s only response is a weak nod, and suddenly I panic that I’m losing him even after all he’s been through. I grab both his hands and drag him to his feet without much effort before forcing him to look at the approaching entourage. “You’ve come too far to break now! He has the horn; you’re just one step away from seeing your mother again.” 

“What if he doesn’t have it? What if he’s destroyed it?” Merlin whispers, voice rising in fear.

“You gave him an ultimatum between your mother and his queen: he has the horn.” 

* * *

**_Arthur_ **

My heart thunders in my chest as I see Merlin and Morgana standing and watching us. She seems to be telling him something, and her arm is wrapped around his shoulders. My nerves rise higher. I figured she would be here after what Gwaine told us, but just the fact of seeing Merlin consorting with her makes my stomach churn.

We reach the line of homes to the village, and I raise my hand in a signal for those behind me to stop. I dismount my horse slowly, taking a measured step forward, not taking my eyes off of the two powerful people before me.

Morgana looks back at me maliciously, her familiar sneer etched onto her face. I could never have prepared myself for the look on Merlin’s face.

He fixes me with a look of pure loathing. His eyes have lost their joyous spark, instead replaced with a seemingly unending emptiness. His lips are formed in a straight line, giving away nothing. 

I feel my own eyes widen, looking to him pleadingly, searching for any sign of his old self. 

_You did this to him. It’s all your fault_.

I hesitantly remove Excalibur from its sheath. Morgana stiffens, shaking her head. Merlin keeps his gaze locked with mine. Slowly, I sink down to the ground, placing the sword down before rising just as slowly. 

“See?” I say, bringing my hands up to show I am unarmed. “I won’t hurt you.” 

“You can’t,” Merlin replies coldly. 

“I -" 

“You came in your armor,” he interrupts. “You think that will protect you?” 

“I always wear my armor out, you -”

“- know that, yes,” Merlin snaps, raising a hand to silence me. I try not to flinch, but am unable to stop myself. “I spent several years forced into servitude under you.”

“You were never forced -” 

“- I could have crushed you, even then,” he sneers, taking a step forward. “I should have. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“Because we’re friends!” I reply desperately, imploring him to remember.

“We _were_ friends,” he contradicts, shaking his head. “ _Real_ friends don’t try to _execute_ each other.” 

His words are like a stab to the gut, and I look down at my feet in shame. “I know, I _know_ , Merlin. It was the worst choice I’ve ever made. The stupidest, cruelest thing. I wish I could take it back, I _promise_ \- I just - _please_. _Please_ , Merlin, I’m sorry. I’m so -” 

“- Gwaine,” Merlin cuts me off yet again, looking past me to my knights. “Come.” 

“Merlin,” Gwaine’s hesitant voice sounds from behind me. “Please, you’ve got to listen to him -”

“I _said_ ,” Merlin snarls, voice rising. “ _Come_!”

“No, Merlin -” 

“- After everything I’ve done for you betray me! _You know everything he’s done_! You _know_ what I’ve lost! I could have killed you before but I spared you because I thought you were my friend!”

“Merlin, _please_!” Gwaine has scrambled down from his horse, now, and is walking forward, talking rapidly. “Please, just listen -”

“No, no, no, no,” Merlin bellows, pointing an accusatory finger at Gwaine, eyes wide and face livid with fury. I hear the sounds of the knights hurriedly dismounting their horses. “You stayed with me. You cared - you don’t get to just walk out on me like that!”

“Merlin, you’re killing people -”

“ _He killed my mother_!” Merlin screams. The cloud in the sky suddenly let loose a stream of rain, thundering down onto the rundown village. I can hear a loud, desperate sob emitting from one of the small cottages.

“I didn’t!” I interject.

“He didn’t!” Gwaine repeats hurriedly.

Merlin rounds on Gwaine. “You saw! You _saw_! You watched me _bury her_!”

“ _Merlin_ , you need to calm down now!” Gaius’ old voice takes us all by surprise as the physician runs forward, passing me even as I try to stop him.

“Gaius, _stop_!” I protest, reaching out for him. The old man reaches Merlin, who does not lift a finger against him, though the warlock is still seething.

Gaius grips Merlin’s shoulders tightly, looking him in the eyes. “Listen to me,” Merlin looks away, only to look back as Gaius shakes him. “No, _listen_. Arthur did _not_ send out the patrol that attacked you here. It was _out of his control_.”

“You’re just trying to protect him,” Merlin pushes the physician’s arms away. “You coward! I thought I could trust _you_ , of all people!”

“No, no, Merlin,” Gaius protests, shaking his head adamantly. “You’re judgement is clouded! You’ve lost sight of who you are. Surrounding yourself with darkness and people who will only hurt you - “

“How _dare_ you?” Morgana demands, coming forward to push Merlin out of the way and stand before the old man. “Where were _you_ through all of this? You were cowering in your chambers, standing behind your _murderous_ and _corrupt_ king! And you claim that _I’m_ hurting him?”

“Merlin,” Gaius pleads, turning again to his apprentice. “You can’t trust her; she’s your enemy, not your friend.”

“Be careful what you say, old man,” Merlin snarls, stepping forward threateningly. “That’s the future queen of Camelot you’re talking about.” 

“You can’t be serious -” Gaius protests, looking between Merlin and Morgana.

“- You wouldn’t understand,” Merlin sneers, stepping towards Gaius once again. “You never got to experience love, did you?”

“You don’t love her!” Gwaine shouts, pushing past me even as I try to hold him back. “You’re only using her; I heard you tell the dragon so yourself!”

Merlin’s eyes flash a vibrant gold, making me jump in surprise. Gwaine doubles over with a loud gasp, stumbling to his hands and knees as he begins to cough violently. My eyes are fixed on the knight in shock, and my heart clenches when I see the blood flying along with the spittle from his mouth.

I knew Merlin was out of control. I knew he was dangerous and that he no longer thinks twice about hurting people...But to _see_ it is so much worse. To witness the pain he is willing to inflict. To hear his cold, merciless voice as he threatens his _friends_.

I force myself out of silence. “Stop!” I shout as Gwaine’s coughing becomes more violent.

Percival and Elyan have run forward, trying to support the man as he shakes on the dirt. “Please, stop it!”

Merlin’s eyes turn gold again, and suddenly Gwaine’s coughs are replaced by soft wheezes as he recovers. Elyan and Percival bring him to his feet before retreating back to the line of horses once again.

“What does he mean?” Morgana grips the Merlin’s upper arms, squeezing tightly while turning him to face her. Conflict is etched on her face, her eyes wide in that terrifying way of hers. “I’m just a _pawn_ to you?”

“No!” He replies, cupping her cheek affectionately. His sudden change of emotion takes me completely off guard; it’s as if someone just snapped their fingers and just like that Merlin became a different person. His voice lowers, and I have to strain to hear him. “Not anymore. When I came to you I was confused, but over the last couple of days everything has changed. I _do_ care for you, Morgana. Our last kiss felt real, didn’t it? It was for me. Wasn’t it for you, too?”

I blink at the word _kiss_ , but brush it away. Things crazier than that have been happening, lately. 

After a short pause Morgana nods, and a small, _genuine_ smile curves her lips upward. I feel my eyes widen: Merlin just made Morgana _smile_. For once she actually seems _happy_...Or as happy as one can be when their demented.

Merlin surprises me again as he leans down, kissing Morgana in front of everyone. I feel the sudden urge to turn away. Kissing is a private matter, and any honorable man or woman would never consider flaunting it in such a way. The fact that _Merlin_ and _Morgana_ are acting so intimately towards each other out in the open is a clue in itself that they are far from who they once were.

I’m afraid to interrupt or attempt to take charge of this meeting. Merlin has made it clear that he is in charge, here. Besides, the faster the conversation goes the sooner I’ll be dead. My stomach churns at the thought, even though I’ve been trying to come to terms with the idea ever since Percival told me Merlin’s message. It’s hard to believe that that was only four days ago - it feels like I’ve aged months since then.

Merlin and Morgana pull away, looking intently at each other for a moment longer. Morgana gives another small nod, which Merlin returns before looking back to the group before him.

“Go back, Gaius,” Merlin orders, shooing the physician away with his hand. “You’ve always been good to me, and I know you will cooperate in the future.” It’s not a question, but a demand. I hold my breath, willing Gaius to follow Merlin’s order.

But he stands firm, standing before his apprentice with his head held high. “No, I won’t, Merlin. Not like this.”

“You _will_ ,” Merlin growls, a glare forming on his face. _Gaius come back - come back, come back!_

“I won’t.” My heart clenches. 

“Never mind that now,” Merlin replies thickly. “We will discuss it later. For now, do as I say and go back to your horse.”

To my relief, Gaius obeys, turning his back on Merlin and walking towards his horse behind me. Our eyes meet, and I give a tiny inclination of the head as I catch the meaning in his sharp gaze. _Be careful_.

“Now, _Arthur_ ,” Merlin sneers, making my heart race faster in anticipation. “Come here.”

 


	20. Chapter 20

**_Arthur_ **

My heart speeds in my chest, thundering so loudly that it echoes in my ears.

_It’s time, then_.

With great difficulty I slowly make my way forward, eying my old friend warily.

After what seems like an eternity, we are a couple feet away from each other. The rain that began so suddenly earlier has died down now, but the tension in the air is thick. None of my men dare say a word; my own tongue seems as though it is glued to the roof of my mouth.

“Do you admit to condemning me to death?” Merlin asks icily, staring at me with so much malice that I have to force myself not to back down.

It was less than a week ago that I would have _laughed_ at the idea of _Merlin_ terrifying me like this. I would have said there was no possible way that such a clotpole as my clumsy oaf of a manservant could cause such fear. Now look where we are.

I take a deep breath before answering. “Y-yes.”

Merlin’s eyes flash a vibrant gold, and a sudden, awful pain strikes me; as if the muscles in my stomach clenched and twisted and pulled. I stumble, falling to the ground before the warlock’s feet. As I’m hacking and wheezing, mind whirring with the constant thought of regaining air, I wonder if this is the same spell Merlin used on Gwaine. Sure enough, through my watering eyes I see blood streak on the dirt as I cough violently. 

I vaguely make out a loud shout of protest from behind me, and feel more than hear the heavy footfalls of someone running towards me. I fumble with my arm muscles for a moment before I’m able to raise my hand in a command for the person to stand down.

The pain suddenly relinquishes just as I experience another bout of hacking and more red invades my vision.

I force myself to look up, heart thundering, to see Merlin outstretch his palm.

“No!” I protest, turning to look behind me.

My eyes register Sir Peyton in the same moment that his neck is forced unnaturally to the side. He is dead before his body hits the dirt road.

“No!” I wheeze dumbly, eyes glued to the fallen Knight.

“Too late,” Merlin says offhandedly, as if murdering a man in cold blood is nothing. 

I feel as though my mind has gone into lock-down. Merlin, the man who trips over his feet everywhere he goes, winds up in the stocks on numerous occasions, gets drunk after one glass of ale, always winds up hurting himself, can’t flirt with a woman to save his life... _That man_ is now standing over me like a wolf who has just caught a defenseless deer.

The same man who repeatedly pledged his allegiance to me and Camelot, insisted on coming on every patrol, stuck by my side through thick and thin, has walked into battle with me, has jumped into near death situations to protect me... _That man_ is plotting the ruin of Camelot and the death of her King.

How can I believe that? How can I process that, deal with that, face that? How can I look into my old best friend's eyes only to see hatred to the core?

There is a sharp kick to my side, and I groan as I roll onto my back, looking up at Merlin from the ground.

“I asked you a question, you _coward_ ,” Merlin snaps irritatedly, glaring down at me. “Was I or was I not your best friend?”

My eyes flutter shut as my shame rises higher once again. “Yes,” I whisper.

“What was that?” Merlin demands.

I open my eyes, looking up at him imploringly. “Yes, you were my best friend,” I repeat louder.

Merlin’s irises burn gold again, and I curl into myself, rolling onto my side, as the pain of a round of punches to the gut slam into me, making me wheeze and long for air once again.

“And was I not faithful to you? Did I not prove time and time again that I would _lay my life down for you_?” Merlin is shouting, now, but I am unable to answer under the pressure of his spell. There is a burning in my lungs as I gasp for air, pounding on the ground weakly in a mad attempt to stay awake.

Merlin kneels down beside me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me up to his level. I weakly fumble for a hold on his wrist, while my other hand unconsciously claws at my throat as if it will ease the pressure. “And did I not sacrifice _everything_ to ensure that your _pitiful_ , _worthless_ life was saved?”

My vision is blacking around the edges, my wheezes becoming weaker, my hold on Merlin slipping.

That’s when Merlin lets me go, releasing me from the grasp of the spell at the same time.

I slam onto the dirt, gasping and coughing and wheezing and _breathing_. The only sound penetrating the overbearing silence are the pathetic sounds coming from my throat.  

I take in another shallow, shuddering breath before meeting Merlin’s gaze once again. “Yes, yes. I’m sorry...I’m sorry...”

“And do you know how it felt to hear you accuse me of treason and sentence me to burn at the stake?” Merlin asks eerily, eyes wide as his face looms above mine. “It felt like a knife to the gut. Have you ever been stabbed in the gut, Arthur?”

“Yes,” I reply weakly, willing my fear back. It doesn’t work. “Yes, I have.”

Merlin rises to his feet, spreading his arms out exaggeratedly as his voice rises even further. “And have you ever lived in poverty, barely making it by? Have you ever been forced to hide who you’ve been since _birth_ for fear of being murdered because of it? Have you ever had to serve a king who would strike you down without a second thought if he discovered what you were? Have you ever had to watch your best friend _kill_ your first love before your eyes?”

My heart skips a beat at the last comment. “W-what?” He can’t mean _me_ , surely?

“Oh, of course you wouldn’t remember!” Merlin seethes, looking down at me as though I was a piece of meat. “Several years ago a bounty hunter brought a girl to Camelot in a _cage_ because she was under a curse that she fought against constantly. We were going to run away together, and she would never have killed again! But you wouldn’t stop, you didn’t care, you just killed her without any sign of remorse or hesitation!”

“I didn’t know -” I protest weakly, shaking my head.

“You didn’t stop to listen,” Merlin spits, eyes dark with loathing. “Did you know that I have come dangerously close to death countless times just to save your useless life?”

“Gaius told me some things,” I say hesitantly. We sat down and had a long discussion about everything Merlin did for me and about his magic. It all left me speechless. I never knew the extent of his loyalty to me. 

And now it’s far, far too late. 

“Why don’t you let everyone know, then?” It sounds like a request, but it is clearly an order. 

“I know your mo - I - you came to Camelot so Gaius could help you control your magic. Then you saved my life and became my manservant.”

“And did you know that when you were bitten by the Questing Beast I attempted to trade my life for yours?” 

My eyes widen in surprise. Gaius had not mentioned that detail in the numerous stories he shared. “You what - Why did you -?”

“Because you are my _destiny_ ,” Merlin growls the word as if it’s unpleasant to speak.

“But you barely knew me then -” I insist, propping myself into a sitting position, not daring to get back to my feet for fear of Merlin’s anger. 

“You had to live, I knew that. I knew I could not let you die, knew I had to save you no matter the cost, knew that your life was more important than my own. But Nimueh tried to take my Mother’s life instead of mine, and Gaius almost died in my place. You see how you always manage to cause more harm than good.”

Merlin’s words hurt, adding to the ache I feel growing in my chest.

“You know,” he adds casually, as if the thought has just occurred to him. “It reminds me of how _you_ were responsible for your own mother’s death just because you were _born_.”

I do jump to my feet at that, suddenly defensive. “That is _not_ true! There was _nothing_ I could have done to save her! She never deserved to die and no way to have expected what would happen. There was nothing she or I could have done - no way for her to defend herself against the evil that attacked her!”

Merlin stares deep into my eyes for a long moment before replying. “No, you’re right,” I look back at him in surprise. In all of this conservation he never agreed with me once. “You’re father signed her life over. It reminds me of how you killed _my_ mother.”

I want to yell in desperate exasperation, shake him, and make him see sense! But I can’t. I know that if I do that he will only get even angrier.

There is nothing I can do to help him, or myself. All I can do is sacrifice myself for my kingdom; the most honorable death a king could ever wish for. I have always wanted to pass honorably, holding up my name and the Pendragon legacy.

But I could never have imagined _this_. Because _this_ does not _feel_ honorable - it feels like a knife to the gut, as Merlin said. I suddenly realize that our roles have been completely flipped: when I was in power I condemned Merlin to death, and now he is in command and it is my turn for condemnation.

But I _have_ to keep trying to save my friend, save my loved ones, save the innocent people of Camelot. It is my duty and I refuse to back down from it until my heart stops.

“May I speak?” I ask my old friend, attempting a new approach. 

Merlin’s eyes narrow, considering. “Fine.”

I take a deep breath, willing courage to come to me. “I can’t take back what I did when my father told me about your magic - I can’t say more than that I’m sorry - but you need to know what happened afterwards was out of my control!” Merlin sneers at this disbelievingly, but I plow on. “When you left I made the decision to let you go, because deep inside I _knew_ I had been a fool...And there was nothing I could do! 

“Then a villager from Florin came to Camelot telling me a sorcerer had burnt his village to the ground and by his description I knew it was you, but I also knew that there _had_ to be more to what happened, so I let you go again. The villagers were furious and attacked me and rushed to Ealdor with some of my knights.” I look imploringly into Merlin’s eyes, and feel a small quiver of hope at the brief flicker of doubt that I find. “Everything that happened after that was terrible and horrific but _I_ _promise you_ that I played no part in your mother’s death.”

The whole village is hushed with anticipation and bated breath. It is Morgana who breaks the silence.

“You are a whole new level of pathetic, _brother_ ,” She spits, coming forward to stand before me. “You convict your friend of treason and sentence him to death, track him down and kill the only family he has left, and then you _dare_ stand before him and plead _innocent_? You are just like Uther, ruthlessly hunting and killing anything you cannot understand! You are a _coward_ , a _pig_! You stand behind lies and make the people of Camelot believe you are a good and just king when in reality you rule over them all with an iron fist!”

“You only say that because you have lost sight of who you are, Morgana,” I reply sadly, thinking back as I often do on the loving woman she once was. “You say _I_ rule with an iron fist but you are unable to see the destruction you would cause were you on the throne. You said yourself that you plan to kill and harm those who refuse to bow to you! Subjects need to be _loyal_ to their king and queen, not simply _afraid_ of them!”

Morgana responds with a sharp slap to the side of my face, forcing my head to the side painfully. “You pathetic, coward, ignorant little -”

“Enough!” Merlin bellows. Morgana stops shouting instantly. Merlin gently takes her by the arm and pulls her away from me, ending the conservation with finality before turning back to me. “There are more important things to take of right now. Where is the horn?”

My stomach drops once again. “Merlin, you don’t -”

“Give it to me!” There is the rage again, fiery in his wide eyes as he wraps a hand around my throat threateningly.

“Listen to me -” I try once again, only to be cut off as he squeezes.

“Do not doubt for _one second_ that I will torture Guinevere for _hours_ \- for _days_ \- unless you give me the horn! That is the only way I can ever get my mother back! You took her from me and I _swear_ I will make your queen _pay_ more than you could possibly _imagine_ for _everything_ I have suffered through because of _you_!”

“No -” I gasp, trying to pull Merlin’s hand from my throat - his magic seems to make him stronger physically, as well, because his grip is stronger than I would have thought possible for him. 

“And once I’m done torturing her I will burn her on the pyre just like all the sorcerers you and Uther have murdered over the years. And she’ll scream and scream and I’ll stand and _laugh_ as she burns among every knight, noble, servant, and villager who tries to cross me!”

“No - I have it - I have it - please -” I wheeze, knees buckling beneath me. Just like that, Merlin releases me, and I crumple at his feet, greedily sucking in precious air.

“Bring it to me _now_ or everything and everyone you hold dear will _burn_.”


	21. Chapter 21

**_Merlin_ **

I watch intently with bated breath as Arthur warily walks back to his horse. My eyes lock onto the horn as he pulls it from his saddlebag, and I have to fight the urge to rush forward and snatch it from him. I have to appear calm and in control.

Arthur hesitates for a moment, and before I can stop myself I take a hurried step forward. “Now!” Everyone flinches instinctively at my shout. Morgana puts a firm hand on my arm, as if silently commanding me to pull myself back. I reluctantly regain my composure, eyes never leaving Arthur’s wary movements.

Seemingly making up his mind, Arthur cautiously walks back to me with the horn in his grasp. My palms grow sweaty and my heart thuds in my chest, eyes now fixed on the object that will bring my mother back to me.

Finally Arthur stands before me once again, and I’ve grabbed the horn from him before he can hold it out to me. 

I’m torn from my concentration as Arthur clears his throat. “You have the horn, now. You swore that you will spare Gwen.” 

I glare at him, eyes narrowing. “I have not forgotten, and I do not betray promises.” 

He nods at this, relief evident on his face. I look away from him to examine the horn in my hands. It’s exactly the same as the last time I saw it. The smooth, pearly surface of the horn feels heavy and cold.

I step away from Arthur and Morgana, wanting space. I feel everyone’s eyes piercing into my back, but pay it no mind. This is the moment I’ve been thinking about for days, now. The moment I get to see Mother again.

With shaking hands, I raise the horn to my lips...and blow.

A misty, blindingly white wall appears before me, and by the gasps from behind me, I am sure the others see it as well. I take a deep breath before stepping into it and entering the Spirit World, trying aimlessly to prepare myself.

The light engulfs me and my breath is forced from my lungs, my stomach constricting and my head feels light. 

I have to squint to see, and blink rapidly as the light fades to reveal eerie blue mist all around. Then I see her, walking slowly out of white light of her own, taking my regained breath away again.

“Mother,” I whisper, eyes growing wide and a real, genuine smile forming on my lips.

She looks back at me, and a pang of guilt slams into me at her sorrowful expression. “Merlin,” she replies softly. Tears are already streaming down my face, a childish feeling of ‘I want my mommy’ overwhelming me.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry...” I repeat again and again, looking at her beseechingly. “I should have saved you; I should have protected you -”

“No, Merlin,” Mother insists, cutting me off. “It is _my_ responsibility as your mother to protect _you_. I do not regret it - I would die for you any day.”

“No!” I snap, losing my grip on my emotions. “No, I should have never gotten you into any of this, it was because of me; I should have never come back to Ealdor!”

“That was beyond your control. Do not blame yourself for it,” Mother presses, a ghostly tear rolling down her own cheek.

Hate fills me at her words. “No,” I angrily wipe the moisture from my face. “It was Arthur - it was always _him_! He condemned me to death and is responsible for yours!”

“You’re wrong, Merlin,” My heart sinks at her words. I can’t be wrong. I’m not. “Arthur tried to reason with you but you would not listen! Everything he told you was true - he did not send those men to Ealdor! He was going to let you go, let you free. He had no part in my death!”

My lip quivers and a knot forms in my throat, eyes burning with tears of denial. “No, no, no, it was him! It was his fault, all his fault -” 

“You know I would not lie to you, Merlin!” Mother insists, voice rising in urgency. “My heart has broken at what you have been doing - joining Morgana, killing innocent people - it’s not _right_ , Merlin, it’s not who you are!”

“I have to -”

“You have turned to darkness, you have let yourself be corrupted and your judgement has become clouded! You are so fueled by a false sense of revenge that you have lost who you are and the love you once had!”

I don’t fight the tears anymore, letting myself break down at the words. My knees shake, and I slide to the ground, overcome with grief, confusion, and guilt. It cannot be true - it just _can’t_ \- but I know Mother would not tell me these things if they weren’t.

“I - I’m going to bring you back. I -” I stammer, head bowed and eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out Mother’s words. 

“No!” She suddenly cuts in, taking me by surprise. I look up at her pleadingly.

“ _Please_ , I _need_ you back! I can’t bear going on without you!”

“If you bring me back to be with you my spirit will never be at rest. I belong here, in the Spirit World. Merlin, we both knew my time had to come eventually -”

“But not yet! Not now - I can’t...I’m not ready to lose you -”

“Merlin, we haven’t much time,” Mother insists, coming forward before me. “You _must_ know that I do not regret my sacrifice for you, and that you have been led astray by your grief. The things you think are true are not and you cannot trust that darkness inside of you to bring anything but _more_ darkness and pain! If you kill Arthur you will destroy _everything_ you’ve been working towards! Albion will never come if you do this -”

“Morgana and I will bring magic back to power!” I persist, trying to hold onto that truth I’ve come to know.

“Listen to me, Merlin,” Mother replies, voice darkening. “Morgana will do nothing but corrupt you further. You think you love her only because you have lost sight of what real love is!” Her eyes flicker up to the veil behind me, then back to my face. “You must go now, Merlin, before you are trapped here. Listen to what I have told you!”

I meet her gaze beseechingly. “Come with me,” I beg, forcing myself to my feet.

“I love you, Merlin, I love you _so_ much.” She says softly.

“I love you, too, Mother,” I whisper back. I have to force my eyes from her in order to turn back to the veil, mind buzzing more than when I came in. I cannot leave her here. I _need_ her with me, should never have left her to begin with.

“Don’t look back, son,” Her words cut into me, pausing my movements as I was just about to bring her with me. 

* * *

**_Arthur_ **

We all stand silently, eyes fixed on the place where Merlin disappeared a few minutes ago. I know he has to come back soon, or else be caught in the Spirit World forever. I don’t know which I’d prefer...

Suddenly he appears, falling out of the white light to land on his hands and knees.

I did not know what to expect, really, but it was not to see him trembling and sobbing on the ground. Everyone is silent, simply staring at him, afraid to do or say anything.

Morgana moves first, going to kneel beside Merlin’s shaking form. “Merlin?” She asks, genuine concern in her voice. I listen in intently, not wanting to miss a word. “What happened? Where is your mother now?”

It’s as if the mention of his mother sets Merlin off, because he suddenly shoves Morgana away and shakes his head adamantly. “Get off of me!” His voice is quiet, but in the eerie silence it’s clearly heard.

Morgana’s eyes grow wide. “What happened?” She demands more forcefully, reaching out to grab Merlin’s arm. He pulls away, staggering to his feet to distance himself. The little patience Morgana seemed to be holding onto breaks, a hint of franticness slipping into her tone. “Merlin! What did your mother say?”

Merlin turns slowly to look at me, making my heart beat anxiously. His eyes are wide, questioning. It looks like he might cry. I feel my own face reflecting the emotions on his own - what _did_ his mother say to him? Did she succeed where I failed?

“You were telling the truth?” He asks, voice dull and eyes glistening.

“Yes,” I reply softly, all in a rush, mind racing in excitement. “Yes, every word!”

Merlin nods slowly, face crumpling. It’s evident that he wished for a different answer, that immense guilt has been placed on his shoulders. I know the feeling.

“No!” Morgana shouts, grabbing Merlin’s shoulders and shaking him. “He’s only lying so he can protect himself! He’s a coward and a murderer! It’s because of him that your mother is dead!” She gets more desperate by the second, hysteria entering her eyes. “You and I are going to rule over Camelot together, remember? You will be king and I queen and we will reunite magic to the land! We will strike down all of our enemies and those who threaten magic - all will be right again!” Merlin doesn’t say anything, just clenches his eyes closed and shakes his head.

“Don’t listen to her, Merlin!” I interrupt, trying to break the wall he’s put up once and for all. “Your mother told you the truth, didn’t she? Hunith wouldn’t lie to you, Merlin, you know that!”

Morgana’s chest rises rapidly, and her eyes shift from my face to Merlin’s before gripping his chin and kissing him, pulling him close. Merlin falters at this, eyes fluttering closed as he returns the kiss, hands circling Morgana’s too-small waist. It’s as if he just inhaled a drug by the way he desperately takes control, slipping into his dominant side once again. A smile forms on Morgana’s lips. I can practically hear her thought of _‘I’ve won’_.

“Merlin!” I shout desperately. “Your mother would want better for you! All that can come out of this darkness is _more_ darkness - don’t you _see_?”

Something I said seems to have triggered in Merlin’s mind, for he instantly pulls away from Morgana to stare off to something unseen before him, a battle waging in his eyes. I’m just about to say something more when Merlin slowly makes his way to the middle of the village road, turning in a circle and taking in the crushed buildings and debris stacked in a high pile.

* * *

**_Merlin_ **

My mind is whirring, my body numb, my heart seemingly paused for the moment. As I look around me, I see the peaceful village I grew up in...Broken. To my left lie the snapped wooden boards of my old friend Hilaria’s home. My heart aches at the thought of her; we were close as children, closer than just friends. She was the first girl I ever kissed, and I was sure I’d marry her one day - would have if I had moved faster to protect her from an attack on our village.

I whip around, and am faced with the sight of a crushed barn. Will and I helped an elderly couple build it many years ago. On the dirt road grain is strewn along with scraps from broken gathering sacks. The usual sound of clucking chickens is absent, and I know they must have been killed in my outrage over Mother’s death.

So much destruction, all because of _me_. I overturned the village I helped build long ago.

My feet feel the need to go somewhere, to escape, but Morgana is behind me and Arthur and his knights before me. I look around wildly, feet catching on themselves, head pounding.

What I see before me stills everything. I stare with unsuppressed horror at the small clearing where we bury our dead.

There are four freshly dug graves.

An inhuman sound rises in my throat, and without really registering it I have collapsed, shaking like a leaf. Tears are pouring down my face, and suddenly they are mixed with large drops of rain streaming down from the sky. My breath is caught somewhere inside of me, barely coming out in ragged gasps and sobs.

 _This is all my fault. I killed my old neighbors, hurt my friends, and pushed away the people who could have helped._ I’m a _monster_.

I hear Arthur’s feet approach me, not even stopping to consider how I know it is him without looking. I sense his concern from above me, my magic whirling confusedly inside my veins.

 _Monster_. 

“Kill me,” I say desperately, looking up to meet Arthur’s wide eyes.


	22. Chapter 22

**_Arthur_ **

“Kill me,” Merlin begs once again.

A long moment of silence. There’s a war inside my mind, but it’s full of absolute _nonsense_ , because I can’t _think_. All I can do is gap down at Merlin, whose eyes seem to be boring into my soul. The fact that I’m all wet and my armor will rust without the proper care duly registers in the back of my mind.

“Merlin, snap out of it!” Morgana shouts, striding forward.

Merlin flinches as if struck at the sound of her voice. Without warning he is on his feet, palms outstretched towards Morgana, and in the next instant she collides with the ground.

“Leave me alone!” The warlock seethes, eyes glinting with the golden signs of barely-contained magic. My heart does a flip of fear; he may have seemed broken just a moment ago but that does not mean he isn’t dangerous.

Morgana scrambles to her feet, giving him a glare so ferocious that I take an involuntary step back. She points an accusatory finger towards Merlin, eyes flashing in contempt. “You sniveling, pathetic liar! You claimed you’d changed, begged for forgiveness, and pretended to _love_ me, all for a twisted, selfish _game_! Well I hope you’re pleased with yourself, because you had me fooled! I thought you were going to do something to protect our people! I thought you cared for something beyond yourself and your worthless king! You’re nothing but a stupid coward!”

Merlin stares her down, and for a moment no one moves. Morgana’s eyes are wide and crazed. She looks utterly betrayed; chest heaving and mouth formed in a right line. And then she runs back the way she came with Merlin what seems like days ago. No one makes a move to stop her. We just look on in solemn silence as she gets further and further away from Ealdor.

Merlin looks back to me after a long moment. “ _Please_ ,” he begs. “Do it.”  
  
“Merlin, I -” I stutter, looking into his wide, sorrow-filled eyes.  
  
Merlin stumbles past me, walking hurriedly to where I laid my sword done and grabbing it by the hilt. He returns, offering it to me like he did when he was my servant. He bits his lip, looking between my face and the sword, which is shaking in his unsteady hand.

“I can’t take it back,” he croaks, looking at me pleadingly. “None of it. I am responsible for innocent deaths. I destroyed two villages. I can’t bring those people back! I killed and ruined...everything. And I can’t go on, I’m not _safe_!”  
  
I stare back at him, not moving a muscle. It seems like we stay this way for an eternity, the air tense around us.

I know what he is saying is true; I have watched helplessly it as it all happened. And yet...looking at Merlin now I just see a broken man. I’m not standing before a ruthless murderer, merciless criminal, or an evil sorcerer. Merlin sinks to his knees before me, bowing his head in willing surrender, still holding Excalibur out towards me. I hesitantly take it from him, and he lets his arm fall to rest at his side.

The air is still. No one dares to speak.

Finally: “No.” It was nothing more than a whisper, and no one heard it. “No,” I repeat it louder, so everyone can hear. Merlin looks up at me, tears mingling with the constant rain.

“Arthur, please, you have to -” he protests, face paling even more.

“I said no!” I shout, sheathing Excalibur resolutely. Merlin flinches, chest heaving as his breath quickens. “I know you, Merlin. I know you won’t do anything like this again - you aren’t that kind of man, Merlin. You did...horrific things, yes, but - you - you weren’t in your right mind!”  
  
“That doesn’t matter!” Merlin shouts, rising to his feet to look me in the face. “If it was anyone else you would have executed them already!”  
  
I flinch at that comment, hitting too close to home. “But that’s exactly how this mess was started in the first place! No one would benefit from your death, Merlin!”  
  
“You have to -”  
  
“Tell me honestly, Merlin: will you _ever_ do anything like this again?”

“Of _course_ not, Arthur! But -”

“Exactly! You won’t ever go back, and I believe that...You are not _innocent_ , Merlin, but you are a genuinely _good_ man.”

“That doesn’t matter, Arthur - what if I lose control? We can’t know what will happen in the future -”

“Merlin,” I interrupt, voice quivering as a lump rises in my throat. “I can’t. I just... _can’t_.”

“Think of your people, think of Camelot! Your knights, your friends, Gaius, _Gwen_ \- you can’t risk them just because you don’t want to kill me!” Merlin reaches out and grabs my arm, making me flinch. He looks down at his toes. “See? You don’t trust me anymore. You can never trust me like you used to.” He pulls away, nodding resolutely before looking me in the eye again. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you about my magic years ago?”

“Merlin -” 

“- Because I couldn’t bare the thought of you looking at me like you are now.”

“I don’t blame you,” I say honestly, to which Merlin shakes his head, opening his mouth to speak again. “No,” I raise my hand to stop him. “Merlin I don’t blame you. I...I can’t imagine how it must have felt to have to hide such a large part of who you are from everyone. I could never truly express myself to my father, but I could always confide in _you_. You never left me, even when it came to sacrificing yourself, you...You were always _there_. And I understand it now...I...” I trail off, unable to think of anything else to express myself. I’ve never had the right words to say at the right time; never known how to say them.

Merlin takes me by surprise, though, and extends his arm. It is the formal initiation of the friendly shake we often shared before all of this happened. To me it always felt as though we were silently confirming our brotherly bond. I stretch my arm out without hesitation, grasping his forearm. He does the same, and we stand like that for a moment in silence.

“Listen to me,” Merlin begins in a low, level tone, looking me square in the eyes. “You _know_ I’m not safe. You need to let me go.”

“Just _stop_ , Merlin -”

“- If I were anyone else you wouldn’t have hesitated,” he repeats his point from earlier.

“Well maybe I haven’t been ruling like I should,” I say earnestly. “Now come home. Please.” 

Merlin stares at me for a long moment. Everyone is dead quiet, not daring to even breathe too loudly for fear of breaking the silence. 

“Arthur, I -” Merlin hesitates, pulling back once again. I grip his forearm tighter, stopping his attempts to escape. 

“No. Come home.”

“I can’t go back to Camelot and have everyone hate me! I deserve it, I know, but I can’t bare that.” He pleads, eyes shimmering. 

“Merlin...I can’t promise that some people won’t, but it’s better for you to come back reconciled than for you to run and be seen as a monstrous criminal.”

“I can’t sit back and watch those who have magic be killed for it. Arthur, I’ve told you before that magic isn’t evil in itself. It’s the person who possesses it who chooses to control or abuse the power.”

“Seems like there are going to be a lot of changes in Camelot from here on out, then.” I reply evenly, a small smile pulling at the corners of my mouth when Merlin’s eyes grow wide.

“You mean...” he trails off.

“I’ve had a lot of things to think about, Merlin. And I’ve come to realize that magic isn’t what my father taught me, and therefore should not be viewed the way I always have. I can no longer see a reason for it to be outlawed – I can thank _you_ for that.”

In a rush Merlin throws his arms around me, taking me by surprise and making me stumble a bit before gaining my footing. He’s laughing; not the deranged laugh that I heard earlier, but the laugh that he always gave after one of his stupid jokes. I laugh, too, and return the embrace.

* * *

**_Merlin_ **

I break away from the hug, and turn to look at the group of knights behind me. There are mixed expressions on their faces. Elyan, Percival, and Leon all look relieved, and nod their heads to me in silent acceptance. Some of the other knights I’ve come to know seem slightly reluctant, while others seem excited about the change. I don’t meet eyes with the ones shaking their heads in anger; this will not be an easy process.

My eyes land on Gwaine, and we lock gazes. A lot is said in only a few looks. We’ve both been damaged through all that has happened, but it does not define our friendship.

Gaius comes forward, and I rapidly close the distance between us, throwing my arms around him. He does not hesitate to return the embrace. Before I really process what is happening I am crying into his shoulder. He pats my head clumsily and pulls me closer, and in that moment I feel him shaking as well.

“I’m so sorry…” I whisper, needing him to know, needing him to understand.

“I know, my boy, I know,” He whispers back. Something inside me settles, as if the world has been made right once again. “Merlin, I have to ask you,” he starts, pulling away and placing both hands on my shoulders. “Did you bring Hunith back?”

A lump grows in my throat, and a shake my head, looking down at my worn boots. “No…She told me not to.”

“That’s good, Merlin,” Gaius says softly.

“Yeah,” I reply dumbly. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go home, shall we? I’ll make your favorite soup for dinner.”

“Alright,” I nod, turning to look back at my mother’s old house. It hurts too much, so I look away again. “Let’s go home.”


	23. Chapter 23

**_Merlin_ **

We ride together into the Camelot fortress, passing through the familiar streets of small homes, shops, and carts. Arthur very obviously led us along a different path of travel so as to avoid getting too close to Florin, and for that I’m grateful. I don’t think I could have handled seeing the wreckage of the small village.

I can feel many eyes on me, making me extremely uncomfortable. No doubt rumors must have started about me over the course of the past week. I’m so worn out and exhausted it feels like everything happened a month ago. Some of the eyes are kind, some angry, but mostly what I see is fear. My stomach drops and my chest tightens, my whole body tensing. It must have been noticeable, for Gaius pulls his horse forward so it is trotting next to mine.

“It’s going to be alright, Merlin,” He says in a soft, comforting voice, placing a wrinkled hand on my arm.

I shake my head, forcing my gaze away from a mother pulling her little girl behind her, both of their eyes wide with fear. “No, it’s not.” I whisper.

Something hard hits my shoulder, and I realize as it falls that it is a potato. Rubbing the newly forming bruise, I dart my eyes up to see who it was. It is then that the man starts shouting, others joining in. “Sorcerer! Traitor! Enemy of the kingdom!”

I open my mouth in protest, but the crowd has grown too loud to talk over. Arthur pulls back on the reins of his horse, stopping it and the whole entourage. I keep looking at all the angry, fearful faces of the people of Camelot. My heart thuds faster, and I kick my horse into a gallop, passing Arthur and rushing to the castle gates.

“Merlin!” I hear Arthur yell, voice nearly drowned out by the crowd. I don’t stop until I’ve reached the courtyard. I see guards holding crossbows, and with the angry shouts ringing in my mind I suddenly panic, pulling my horse to a sudden stop before scurrying off of it and into the castle. I hear Arthur calling my name again, and realize he must have chased after me.

I don’t know where I’m trying to go, and I know Arthur or someone else will find me eventually, but I feel sick and my breath is shallow. I hurriedly turn a corner, and collide with someone running just as fast in the opposite direction.

We both fall to the stony floor, and I force myself to look up at them even though I just want to disappear.

“Merlin,” Gwen whispers, eyes wide. She blinks, trying to mask her surprise and sudden fear, but it’s too late. Even my friends will never be able to look at me the same way ever again. I know Gwen can never forgive me, not after I threatened her life as well as her husband’s.

I scramble to my feet, backing away before running the way I came. All I can think of is the image of all of those angry, scared faces. I’ve done too much, hurt and killed to many, to ever be forgiven.

“Merlin!” Gwen’s voice calls from behind me. I don’t stop, but it isn’t my choice anyway, because suddenly Arthur is in front of me and gripping my arms firmly, trying to still me.

“Merlin, stop running!” He shouts, but I feel as though I’m going to hyperventilate. I just shake my head, trying to push him away. “Stop fighting!” He orders.

I didn’t mean for it to happen, but my magic lashes out and suddenly I’m free and Arthur is on the floor, having been shoved away by an invisible force. Gwen screams, and my eyes widen, looking between the two as Gwen rushes to Arthur’s side.

Two sets of strong hands tug both of my arms behind me, but I’ve lost all the fight I once had. I just sag in their grip, breaths uneven, heart thundering in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I finally choke out. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…”

“Arthur, Arthur,” Gwen keeps whispering, wrapping her arms around him tightly as tears stream down her face. He returns the embrace, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He buries his face in her hair and gently rocks her back and forth, rubbing her back comfortingly. “You came back,” Gwen chokes, pulling away and taking Arthur’s face in her hands. “Thank god you came back.”

“How could I stay away when there was such a beautiful woman waiting for me at home?” He chuckles without real humor, tucking a wild strand of hair behind Gwen’s ear.

“I tried to have faith,” she whispers brokenly, tears renewing their speed. “But I couldn’t help thinking that I would never see you again.”

I feel as though my heart is breaking, and I realize silent tears are rolling down my face, as well. I did all of this. It was a mistake for me to come back here. I’m just a threat to everyone…I thought I could contain it but I’m too unstable. I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.

“Shh…” Arthur replies softly, brushing the tears from the Queen’s cheeks. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

“Sire,” a low voice tentatively pipes up from behind me, grip tightening on my upper arms.

Arthur gets to his feet, helping Gwen up, as well. He nods to the men behind me, who I have not bothered to identify. “You can release him, Thomas, Percival,”

I recognize Percival’s large, strong hands then, and they are the first to obey to command, only staying to help me become steady on my feet once more. Thomas, however, does not let go.

“Sire, are you sure that is a wise decision –“

“I said release him,” Arthur says, authority clear in his tone. Thomas lets me go, but as I turn to look at him, I see mistrust evident in his gaze.

“I’m not safe, Arthur,” I say numbly, turning my tear streaked face back to that of the King. “I told you…I can’t stay here. I thought…hoped that I could start over but this proves that there’s no going back.”

“So what, Merlin,” Arthur shakes his head, coming to stand before me. “I’m just supposed to kill you?”

Gwen gasps from behind her husband, hands flying to her mouth in shock. I just nod, looking sadly into Arthur’s eyes. “It’s the only way we can know that I won’t hurt anyone again.”

“The answer is still no, Merlin,” Arthur says resolutely. “I won’t do that.”

“Everyone is afraid of me!” I shout suddenly. “The people in the town, the guards, the knights, _Gwen_! And I know you are, too, Arthur, so don’t even try to deny it! I’ve lied and kept secrets my whole life; I know whether or not someone is telling me the truth.”

“Merlin –“ Arthur begins, brow furrowing.

“- I can’t blame any of you. I would be scared of me, too. If someone had killed and destroyed so much and threatened those that I loved, I wouldn’t hesitate to stop them.”

“That’s easy to say, Merlin, but –“

“- I’ve done it before, Arthur,” I cut him off again. “I have killed so many before all of this happened.”

“That wasn’t through dark magic, Merlin. Those people were evil – you were protecting Camelot! You can’t possibly be blaming yourself for stopping those with evil intentions!”

I bit my lip, shaking my head. “How can we decide that it is alright to kill some but not others? There has been too much _death_ , Arthur.”

“So let’s change that,” Arthur grips my shoulders, looking me in the eyes. “Let’s show the people of Camelot that you aren’t the man you were this past week.”

“I can’t control myself,” I protest, pulling away. “What just happens proves that.”

“You were panicking, Merlin! How were you supposed to react after what happened in the lower town?”

“We need to know that I can be trusted in any and all situations! I can’t be trusted if I’m going to end up panicking and hurting someone!”

“We can get through this, Merlin. I _know_ we can!”

“Promise me that if I ever lose control you’ll kill me before I get the chance to hurt anyone,” I demand, looking Arthur directly in the eyes.

His own eyes widen. “Merlin –“

“ _Promise me!_ ”

The hall is deadly quiet, no one daring to make a sound. Arthur looks to the floor for a moment before looking back to me. “…I promise.”

I simply nod before turning and walking to mine and Gaius’ chambers. Arthur may have promised that he’d kill me if I ever lost control, but I won’t let it come to that.

* * *

**_Guinevere_ **

It’s been several hours before everything that happened in the hallway. Arthur told me all that happened while we ate. He said he wasn’t hungry, but I insisted he eat anyway. He had said he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, either, but it ended up being me lying awake in the bed while he slumbered beside me.

I’m strolling through the corridors now; moonlight streaming in through the large windows to my left.

I was so relieved when some servants informed me that the King and his knights had returned to the castle. While he was gone I felt utterly hopeless, the fear of it all too much to handle. I cried for hours, hidden away in our chambers while clutching his nightshirt, wishing him back at my side.

I couldn’t believe that Merlin could ever kill Arthur. They’ve been too close for too long. However I also couldn’t have guessed Arthur would have acted the way he did towards Merlin in the first place.

I stop walking when I hear the sound of faint crying echoing down a stairwell leading to one of the watchtowers. Cautiously, I climb up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. When I reach the top my breath catches in my throat.

Merlin is standing by one of the low parts of the tower’s parapet. His shaking hands grip the stone, tears rushing down his face. His weight is shifting on his feet as if he’s trying to prepare himself to –

“Merlin, don’t!” I protest, rushing forward as it all clicks into place. The warlock whips around, losing his footing for a moment and almost falling off the edge. He steadies himself with wide eyes, staring down the long distance to the ground with wide eyes. He does not move away from the edge.

“I have to, Gwen,” He says in a broken whisper, refusing to look at me.

“No, Merlin, please,” I protest, walking forward slowly, arms held up warily. “Step away from the edge.”

“I’ve hurt so many,” He shakes his head, tears glistening in his eyes. “I can’t turn back from that.”

“You already have.”

Merlin tears his gaze from the ground to meet my eyes. “You saw what I did to Arthur today in the corridor. I’m not strong enough to contain myself.”

“And I also know what you did to him in Ealdor. You cannot compare that dark magic to pushing someone away in panic –“

“- But I didn’t mean to do anything!” He protests, looking back to the edge of the tower. “We all know I am capable of much, much worse. There’s no way I’m letting myself hurt anyone like I did ever again.”

“Everyone has darkness in them, Merlin. It’s harder for those with power to control it; yet you have for all of these years. I believe that you will never turn to it again.”

“No,” Merlin shakes his head, returning to the edge and putting one foot on the stone wall. “I know you don’t really mean that. Not after what I threatened to do to you and what I did do to Arthur. I can’t be trusted!”

“I forgive you,” I say sincerely, heart thudding in fear as Merlin is far too close to falling. I take a step forward, outstretching my arm towards him.

Merlin stops at my words, and looks back at me in shock. “What?”

“I forgive you, Merlin.”

“You can’t –“

“- I can because you stopped before you killed Arthur. I can because I know you had no intention of hurting anyone in Florin. I can because your magic reacted out of pain and grief in Ealdor the day your mother died. I can because you came home instead of running away. I can because the fact that you are ready to sacrifice your life to protect Camelot proves that you _can_ be trusted.”

“What about Sir Peyton? I killed him in cold blood in Ealdor today.”

“Yes, yes you did,” I whisper. “But I would be a hypocrite if I ignored the fact that Arthur has killed innocent people in a moment of mistakes, as well.”

Merlin drags him foot down from the wall, and fully turns to look at me. It feels as if a weight has lifted from my chest. “You really think that after everything I can be trusted?” He asks slowly, looking at me imploringly.

“Yes, yes I do.” I say truthfully, looking him straight in the eyes to make sure he knows I’m serious.

Suddenly he rushes forward, enveloping me in a hug. He’s crying against my shoulder, and I find that I’m crying, too as I return the embrace.

* * *

**_Merlin_ **

**_(One Month Later)_ **

It has been anything but easy to convince the kingdom that the lifting of the ban of magic is for the best. Camelot’s people have been so used to hating magic that the idea of accepting it is incredibly foreign. Some happily accepted the change, revealing that they had been magic sympathizers all along. There have even been a few who have confessed to having magic themselves. I personally met with them to ensure them that they really are safe now.

There were angry outbursts from a few groups, and the man that tried to attack me when I came back from Ealdor led a riot that was difficult to subdue. All of this has been hard on Arthur, as many on the council fought hard before the ban was officially lifted a week after our return. It took that long to convince those who were unyieldingly loyal to Uther’s laws. I do my best to ignore the dirty looks I still get sometimes.

Another change to get used to is my new position in the kingdom. I’ve become Arthur’s right-hand man, specializing in matters dealing with magic. It’s been a tough job to take on, and sometimes I wish I could take on the chores I used to have as Arthur’s manservant – they seemed exhausting at the time, but that was before I was able to openly complete them with magic.

Arthur refused to take George on as his manservant, much to the man’s disappointment. Instead Gwen has insisted that Arthur do some things himself, such as dressing and general tidying. Because she was a peasant before a queen, Gwen said rather openly that it was ridiculous that Arthur hadn’t been doing more himself over the years. I thoroughly enjoyed observing that conversation.

Arthur has taken on a new manservant, however: a teenager named Josef. Based on the king’s complaints, the new addition is just _barely_ better than I was. I have noticed with amusement that the King refuses to take on someone else in the boy’s place. I don’t think he would know what to do with himself if he didn’t have a ‘competent’ servant to tease. Josef has taken the job on quite well considering what a clotpole the King is.

I now have my own chambers, nearby to the King’s and Queen’s, but not too close so I won’t “be a bother” as Arthur so kindly put it. I was worried Gaius would be lonely without me in the physician’s chambers, but he said with my change in position he will need a new apprentice, anyway. It feels a bit strange to watch someone take on my old jobs, but I’m thankful for their sake that they won’t have to juggle being the King’s manservant, being the Physician’s apprentice, _and_ protecting Camelot against evil magic like I did.

One of the most difficult things was reconciling with the Knights. Elyan was understandably wary of me after I threatened his sister, but he, too, offered me forgiveness. I didn’t need to say anything to Percival: he cut me off when I tried and simply patted me on the shoulder and said he understood and would stand by me. Leon, in his older, wiser way, asked that we speak about everything at length. It was an uncomfortable conversation, but when I finished talking he cut the silence by saying I had earned a second chance through all the service I’d done for Camelot in the past.

The conversation I was dreading most was the one I knew I needed to have with Gwaine. We stood for a while, looking to each other in silence, neither wanting to make the first move. I was sure in that moment that there was no possible thing I could say to him to make him forgive me. I was just about to say as much when he engulfed me in an unexpected embrace.

“You’re my best mate. And you were my only friend when I came to Camelot. I always have thought that out of everyone, you were the one who deserved to be a Knight – certainly more than me.” He said sincerely.

“Thank you for staying with me through all of his,” I replied, tears threatening my eyes. “You never had to…But you did. Everything could have happened so much worse if not for you.”

“That’s what friends are for, mate.” He’d said with a smile. Then he had dragged me off to the tavern, insisting that I’d earned a few drinks.

We haven’t heard from Morgana at all, which is both a relief and worrisome. I can’t help but find myself hoping that she is doing well; and not just so she is no longer a threat. I feel badly for the ways I know I hurt her. I understand her in ways I never did before everything happened. I’ve felt the darkness, and I know from our time together that we turned to it for similar reasons. Whether she can turn back from it, I have no clue. I was consumed in darkness for a week, whereas she has been for years.

I am simply grateful that all of that horror has passed, and that for the moment, Camelot is at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO much for the wonderful support for this story! I am grateful for the kind feedback and I hope you will read future stories that I post!
> 
> I have several other fanfics written and uploaded to Fanfiction.net, under the author name "Eggwonna" (Inside joke. lol). I have been enjoying this platform and plan to continue posting on here, as well :)


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